


Before the Dawn

by idrilhadhafang



Series: The Daughter of The Suns [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, dark obi-wan, mara as obi-wan and sabe's daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 78,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Empire has spread across the galaxy, enslaving, arresting and killing innocent people, and Mara Lars and Ben Organa, children of Obi-Wan and Sabe Kenobi, may be, with the help of Padme, Sabe and others, their only hope for stopping the darkness. Will they overthrow Palpatine and his Empire, or will they suffer the fate of their father, Darth Terminus, before them? Will Darth Terminus be redeemed? And what will become of Padme and Sabe, in the end?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Nightmare Man

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and Disney. I don't own a thing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Thought that I'd start posting early at the very least because...well, last time I posted my NaNo story was last December. That and checking around in terms of seeing when NaNoEdMo was...there were differing instances. Some did it in December, some in January, etc. I thought I'd do it in December because...well, why not?
> 
> Also, I really hope I got Mara in character (she's always been really difficult to write for me, personally. It doesn't help that we're pretty much polar opposites on the personality spectrum) here. Yeah, different circumstances and whatnot (and a lot of her canon personality was formed via growing up under Palpatine's influence), but I definitely hope I managed to get the essence of her character intact, if that makes any sense. Also decided to do some polishing before posting.
> 
> And yes, the chapter title is a reference to Halloween 4. Let's say I kind of got a bit into the Halloween films this year.

 

It was a nightmare that Mara Lars had had too many times before, really. It was a sort of nightmare that, really, had plagued her so many times, although in all honesty, she couldn’t even say why. The smoking Jedi Temple, something that she had mostly seen in her lessons, in her classes, but if nothing else, she couldn’t even say, really, where it came from, showing up in her nightmares. The man in black, the man dressed in robes that concealed his face, marching on the Temple, attacking it, killing everything in his path. And a woman screaming in agony even as she lay on a birthing table, as another woman stood above her, trying to reassure her. 

 _“Sabe. It’s going to be all right. Just hold on. It’s going to be all right. Trust me on this.”_  
  
And the woman kept on screaming, horrible screams that seemed to all but tear through the night throughout the whole process. And when Mara woke, still in a cold sweat, she could still see it in her mind. It felt too clear, she thought, almost like it had happened right in front of her – but it didn’t even make sense. Why was she dreaming about it right now? Nothing about it even made sense.  
  
Mara Lars got out of bed now and walked outside. Outside, the night was cold, and almost peaceful. It was rare, she thought, for nights on Tatooine to actually have some degree of coolness to them. She took a deep breath, trying if only in vain to stabilize herself after the effects of those dreams.  _It’s okay, Mara. You’re okay._  
  
And yet she wasn’t. What was the meaning of all these dreams? It didn’t even make sense, really – all these people, all these people that she had barely even known. Why was she dreaming about them? What was the point, really? Why them?  
  
She supposed there wasn’t really anything about it that was going to make sense. Then again, since when did nightmares make any sense?  
  
Mara ran a hand through her hair if only in frustration. Nothing about this made sense. And somehow, that was the worst part about this.  
  
“Hey.” A familiar sort of voice. A very gentle sort of voice. Luke walked out of the night now. He was a very handsome man, with sort of pale hair and wide blue eyes. There was something about his face, Mara thought, that was always sort of childlike, in a way. Very gentle. Very innocent. It had been something about him, really, that she had found almost charming. His sort of optimism, his innocence, no matter how bad things got. Granted, he wasn’t perfect about it – she could still remember all the frustrations that he had had in regards to his foster parents refusing to let him go to the Academy like they had with his foster-brother, Biggs Darklighter, and she could sympathize with him a bit too well. It wasn’t easy being cooped up here on this planet. Especially when it was a planet as boring as this one. A planet where nothing happened, where it was the same routine every day, where it seemed like every day was wake up, go to school, listen to the teacher lecture, then come back home if only to work on the farm. It wasn’t as if Mara didn’t understand that her family didn’t need help, but at the same time…there had to be something else out there. There had to be something more – but at least something about how he tried to stay optimistic was enough to help Mara through the worst of it. When the stretches of time seemed to all but go on forever. When the stretches seemed almost interminable, and almost as bad as the Tatooine desert itself that seemed to stretch on for miles and miles.  
  
Mara smiled if only slightly. “Hey.” Silence. “What are you doing up?”  
  
Luke only gave her a quizzical look in response. “What are  _you_  doing up?”  
  
 _Good point._ “I just had another nightmare. Nothing big.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Luke moved towards her now, placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “What was it about?”  
  
“It was about…him again.” Even trying to vocalize it was difficult. All these people, dying or dead. All these people that he had murdered if only for no reason at all. “He was inside the Temple, killing all these people – I don’t think that he even saw a difference between them. It didn’t really matter if they were kids or whatnot; they were just in his way.” She took a deep breath, trying once again to keep herself from shaking.  _It’s okay, Mara. It’s just a bad dream. You’re okay._ And yet even that was a small comfort, all things considered. Because she could swear that she could see the man’s golden eyes gleaming from underneath the hood, almost as if seeing right through her. She sighed. “I guess I should have seen it coming – I mean, it was after the Festival of the Dead and all, but…” She ran a hand through her hair. “It feels like he’s been popping up in my dreams a lot, really.”  
  
Luke placed a hand on her shoulder. “Has he?”  
  
Mara nodded.  
  
“He’s been popping up in my dreams too. Well, not quite.” Luke rubbed his head, almost as if trying to get whatever he had seen, whatever horrible thing he had seen, out of his mind. All things considered, Mara thought, she couldn’t say that she blamed him. Not quite. After all, things like that…they were probably best left forgotten. And yet it was almost difficult. Tatooine was perhaps one of the furthest removed planets from the center of the Empire, but it didn’t really mean that they didn’t get the reports that flowed in in regards to whatever the Empire had done this time. Whatever “traitor” they had punished this time, and considering Terminus, Vader, Ventress and Palpatine, Mara knew more than anything that it was usually some sort of horrific, disproportionate punishment. She knew that somehow, it was horrible.  
It had been something that she and Luke had spoken about at times. Her, trying to make sense out of everything that had happened, and Luke, also trying to make sense out of all of it before saying, finally, that the Empire were, simply, monsters.  
  
Not that Mara could disagree. After just hearing about some of the things that the Empire had done, sometimes the matter of “they’re monsters” was really the only explanation. And the worst part about monsters, she thought, or one of the worst parts, was the fact that they always found some way to justify their actions, no matter what it was. When one was younger, they feared the monsters under the bed. And now that one was older…  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “Tell me more about these dreams.”  
  
And as Luke told her more about what he had seen, all the horrors that had come to life in his nightmares, Mara couldn’t help but listen, almost bizarrely curious, even sort of enthralled by what she was hearing. It was horrible and yet, somehow, she wanted to know more about it. Whatever was plaguing the both of them.  
  
Whatever was happening to them both.  
  
Why would they both have the same dreams? Not quite the same, but similar nonetheless.  
  
“…and sometimes when I wake up, I can still see his…eyes. Just staring at me.” Luke seemed to almost shiver. “These gold sort of eyes. Sort of like a krayt dragon’s.”  
  
“Same here.” Mara swallowed. “Well, not quite the same, but…similar.” A beat. “Do you think it’s possible for people to have the same dreams?”  
  
“Who knows?” Luke shrugged. “I mean, it might just be a bunch of old wizard’s tales. For all we know, maybe it’s a reason to not take things so seriously at the Festival.”  
  
Mara laughed if only a bit. There was something about that, at the very least, that made her feel better. Just a little bit.  
  
“Do you want to go racing or something?” she said. “I mean…it’s not like I can get back to sleep anyway.”  
  
“Won’t Owen and Beru – ’’  
  
“To the Corellian hells with that. I,” Mara said, “Want to go racing.” She grinned. “Seriously, how about we do that for a bit? Just forget about everything that we had bad dreams about? Forget about it all, and just go racing?”  
  
Luke laughed. “You are very persuasive, Miss Lars.”  
  
Even getting the bikes, Mara glanced back at the house. She could only hope that she wasn’t being too conspicuous, lest she all but alert her foster parents to the fact that she was out racing before dawn again. Except they seemed to be sleeping pretty heavily that night. The Festival must have gotten to them enough.  _Thank the suns._  
  
“You ready?” she said to Luke.  
  
Luke grinned. “How could I not be?”  
  
And they took off into the early dawn, the wind blowing through their hair. And at least for a moment, flying alongside the sunrise, flying alongside the brilliant Tatooine morning sky, Mara Lars felt, at least for a moment, alive. Even laughing along with Luke, all but challenging him, even racing alongside the canyons and outrunning some enraged Sand People, there was something about that, at the very least, where Mara felt at least somewhat like she was outrunning everything that was happening at the moment. She was, for all intents and purposes, flying.  
  
She had always dreamed of flying. Things like working on the moisture farm – it wasn’t as if she didn’t understand why she had to do them, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel almost discontent. A life like this – it wasn’t made for her. It never could be, really.  
And racing along the dunes – it felt, at least for a moment, like for all intents and purposes, she was free. Flying along the desert sky as she was meant to.  
  
Eventually, they parked back at the house and Mara, laughing even in spite of herself, got off the speeder. “I’m going to be in so much trouble,” she said, “And it was worth every second.” She took a deep breath. “Thanks, Luke. I feel better now.”  
  
Luke grinned. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said, “I’m just doing what I can to help.”  
  
A light came on in the Lars residence. Mara sighed. “I’d best go in,” she said. “I mean, Mom and Dad are going to be furious if I’m late. See you later.”  
  
Luke grinned. “See you later.”  
  
And Mara headed inside now. It was on her way in that she glanced if only quickly behind her. Because, unless it was her mind still rattled from the matter of the Festival, she could have sworn that she saw a pair of dark brown eyes watching her.


	2. Perhaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see how Padme's been holding up since the events of the previous installment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was actually kind of one of those chapters that...well, for lack of a better word, definitely reflected my mindset when I first got to writing the sequel. Let's say that I'd been having weird dreams/nightmares, sleep issues in general (I remember actually falling asleep on the couch because I was so tired and dreaming about jack-o-lanterns. The fact that Halloween was coming up probably didn't help), and then there was the matter of some issues in one fandom I was in that were actually kind of stressing me out (and sadly, they don't seem to have let up yet). Not to mention school. I think in a way, writing this chapter definitely helped me -- writing this whole fic definitely helped me, actually; there's definitely something about the act of writing that's very cathartic -- through some of the frustrations I had. That and I feel it was definitely one of those moments where the story just clicked, so...yeah, this is definitely one of my favorite chapters.
> 
> And emotional TMI aside (sorry), I hope you like this chapter.

The worst part about Tatooine, Padme thought, was the sort of strange sort of loneliness that one got during it. Simply waiting, in the desert, watching over Mara as best as she possibly could along with Sabe, all while training with Master Qui Gon Jinn (or his ghost, at the very least; he had been dead for quite a long time. Since Padme was fourteen years old, actually) in everything that she didn’t get to learn before. That and there was the simple fact that she had lost much. She supposed that it was almost un-Jedi-like to think of it. Because the Jedi were supposed to let go of losses. To find peace with them. To rejoice for those who transformed into the Force.  _Mourn them not, miss them not,_ as Master Yoda had once said. After all, attachment only held the shadow of greed, the desire for things to simply, not change.  
  
Except to be perfectly honest, it was almost difficult for Padme. Perhaps after losing enough people during the war, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted change. Too many good men and women had died, and the worst part about it really was the fact that it was for absolutely nothing.  
There was nothing that war was good for, really. There had been a reason that Padme had been so against war. Even hearing about it, and seeing the effects that it had on Naboo, the occupation over something as petty as trade routes of all things, was enough to make her wonder what the point of war was, and if there was really a point at all.  
  
There was no point, really. It just seemed to be “whoever kills the most people wins”. And there wasn’t any point in killing the people either, except to somehow prove that you were right about something, when there was really nothing that you were really right about, in the end.  
  
They had lost so many people during the war. Jedi Master Piell, for instance, Duchess Satine Kryze (cut down at the hands of the resurrected Darth Maul), and Ahsoka Tano. Even remembering them was enough to make Padme’s heart ache. She still had mementos of them, really – Ahsoka’s lightsaber, for example, and a painting of Satine. At least looking at them, she could almost imagine just for a bit that they were still here with her. And perhaps if only in that moment, she didn’t feel as alone.  
  
But the worst blow wasn’t even a death. You couldn’t really call it a physical death, really. At the very least, the person didn’t die, but he might as well have.  
  
 _Obi-Wan_. Even remembering fighting against him, and earlier, seeing the hologram of him killing every Jedi in his path – even the younglings! What had they done wrong anyway? What had any of the Jedi done wrong, except get in the way of Palpatine’s regime? – was enough to hurt still. And him, begging her to leave him behind, save herself…it had been almost like a remnant of Obi-Wan, the good man that he used to be, was still in there. But it was only a remnant. Probably the last remnant left, because even seeing the images of him killing so many people “for the greater good of the Empire” and “for peace” and all those words that they threw around that really meant nothing at all, she doubted that there was really anything left in Obi-Wan. The Obi-Wan Kenobi she knew had died, and this, really…this was just a monster with a mask. An almost faceless beast that had devoured the man she had once called one of her best friends.  
  
And that…that hurt more than anything.  
  
The best solace she had was the fact that no matter how terrible things got, really, in the end, she could protect the children. She got occasional updates from Bail talking about Ben – Ben was shaping up to be a “good kid”, as he had said. Growing up with them seemed to have done him some good; even getting the occasional holos that Bail would send of Ben, and the times where he got to talk with Padme over hologram – he was shaping up quite well, really. He had his father’s eyes, Padme thought, those blue, sort of vaguely mischievous yet earnest eyes, and his mother’s dark hair that fell around his face in soft waves. And the way he acted, at least sometimes, reminded Padme of when she had first met Obi-Wan, when he was nothing more than a slightly brash though restrained, gentle yet sarcastic young Padawan. They hadn’t gotten along at first; if nothing else, Obi-Wan seemed to vaguely distrust her. But in time, they had become friends.  
  
And even that, somehow, almost hurt.  
  
Mara, meanwhile, seemed to be the opposite of her brother, with her father’s red hair and eyes that didn’t seem to come from either Obi-Wan or Sabe. Eyes that were a sort of violent green, although there was probably a hint of her father in them, as the eyes seemed almost like a river frozen in its flood. Green or blue eyes seemed, at least from what Padme could gather from the rare moments where she and Obi-Wan could meet the Kenobis, to run in the family. And the way she acted – she didn’t seem like Obi-Wan that much (except for her wit), but more like Sabe. Her free spirit, her loyalty…she seemed almost like she existed on a plane of existence different from the rest. A place where she could be challenged, where she could dream. A lot, Padme thought, like when they had all been younger, and more innocent, and when the idea of civil war without end was unthinkable, the breakdown of the Republic to be replaced with a dictatorship ludicrous, and the Sith nothing more than a bad dream.  
She could only hope that Mara kept that sort of spirit. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like if…if…  
Even thinking about it was enough for the hurt to return.  
  
 _Padme._ Qui-Gon’s voice, gentle and soft and almost rumbling, as she had remembered when she had first met him.  _You seem to be drifting. Concentrate on the moment. Be mindful of the here and now._  
  
She almost hadn’t realized that she had been drifting. She turned to look now at Qui-Gon. “I’m not drifting,” she said, “I’m just waiting.”  
  
 _For what?_  
  
“I don’t know.” Padme ran a hand through her hair – it had started graying over the years. She didn’t know how – after all, she wasn’t really that old, was she? – and yet here it was. She supposed that was the problem with growing up – it was guaranteed sooner or later that you’d find a way for your body to start breaking down. “A miracle, perhaps.”  
  
 _You can’t just wait for a miracle. Not forever._ Qui-Gon’s voice, though still gentle, held a sort of firmness in it as well.  _You’re going to have to tell Mara the truth eventually. And Ben._  
  
“I don’t know.” Padme took a deep breath. “I don’t want to pile this on her shoulders that quickly. I mean…she’s still just a child.”  
  
 _She’s nineteen years old._  
  
“She’s as good as a child!” It had been a debate that she had had with Sabe for quite some time. “I mean,” she said, “She shouldn’t have to have the burden of…killing her own father. She should be having fun and making friends and just…doing things that teenagers should.” Even finding the right words was almost too difficult to explain. All of this was too difficult to explain.  
  
 _Who said anything about killing?_  
  
“All right,” Padme said, “I guess that was a little far.” She sighed. “I guess it’s just…I don’t want to be the one to decide the fate of someone else’s child. Not like this. Using her as a weapon. Master Yoda thinks that it may be the only way to stop the Empire. But I don’t want to think about using her as a weapon to take down her own father, and I can’t tell Sabe.” It was a good thing that Sabe was at least asleep, she supposed. Padme, meanwhile, couldn’t say that she could sleep at all nowadays. Every time she did, she saw the corpses of the Jedi, the people she had grown up with, the people she had laughed with and fought alongside and bickered with, lying horribly murdered on the floor. Or the burning Temple. Or Obi-Wan – Terminus – burning on the shores of Mustafar, his flesh melting horribly and his long hair beginning to char. “It’s…it’s going to break her heart, Qui-Gon. I can’t do this to her, or to Obi-Wan.”  
  
It was almost strange, she supposed, how she kept calling him “Obi-Wan”. And yet at the same time, it was true. After all, in a way, she was still going to remember him as Obi-Wan Kenobi. He could change his name all he wanted, but he couldn’t change who he used to be.  
  
Padme felt Qui-Gon’s hand gently brush alongside her shoulder, almost like he used to do when she was still very young, whenever he was trying to reassure her – however falsely – that everything was going to be all right.  _Just remember, Padme; he could have simply left you to the Emperor at Sullust, but he didn’t. There is hope for him, even if it doesn’t seem that way._  
  
“I…” Padme took a deep breath. “I hope you’re right.”  
  
 _There’s always a better way._  
  
And Qui-Gon was gone, leaving Padme alone in the hut with her thoughts. In a way, she almost didn’t know what to think. Because Qui-Gon Jinn was right. After all, when things seemed bleakest, Obi-Wan, even in spite of everything, had told Padme to run, to save herself, even as she tried to help him. She couldn’t say why, but she supposed that, perhaps, there was still a part of the newly christened Darth Terminus that still wanted to save his former Padawan.  
  
Padme took a deep breath now, managing to compose herself if only slightly. There was a way. There was always a way. Perhaps she could save him.  
  
 _Perhaps…_


	3. It Doesn't Hurt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see how Vader's been holding up since the events of the previous installment as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was mostly written to give Vader and Ventress bigger roles in the plot, considering that their roles were...kind of small in "As The World Falls Down". *Uncomfortable guilty shift* I hope you like it, really. Also, using the name for the Jedi Exile that I've sort of become used to, if only because...well, let's say that I've sort of thrown TOR and Revan into Discontinuity. I know there are others who might like both TOR and Revan, but...I dunno, I'm just not entirely happy with them, to be perfectly honest.

The problem with nightmares, Vader thought, was before you woke up and realized otherwise, they seemed all too real. And even in that moment, he supposed that in a way, they were still very very much real. Because they had already happened in the past. Because they were things that he still very much remembered. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Terminus, brought in, smoking, most of his flesh all but burnt off – how did lava even do that to a person? Vader still couldn’t understand – and him, Vader, trying if only vainly to make him live.  
  
After all, Vader thought, he had caused enough deaths for a lifetime. He had caused enough misery in this war. He supposed that he might as well try and do some good this time around. He couldn’t say that he was perfect at it, but still…  
  
The windows were open that night. Even stepping outside, Vader couldn’t help but feel some sort of peace. There was something about being out in the cool night air that was at least somewhat comforting, he thought. Almost, he thought, like being back on the homestead on Tatooine, looking out at the twin suns, wondering when he would go and see the stars.  
  
Before Sidious had come. Before his home, and his mother, had all but gone up in fire. Before Sidious had trained him to become this.  
  
Vader squeezed his eyes shut. More than anything, the origins of the Festival of the Dead seemed to be founded on an almost Jedi-like belief that the spirits of the dead would come back and interact with the living. (Although the Jedi didn’t say anything about the dead all but coming back to life, it was somewhat true for the Jedi, really. The Sith, meanwhile…they didn’t get Force ghosts. It, plain and simply, was not meant to be. The Sith could exist in a sort of limbo, but they couldn’t exactly exist as Force ghosts. There had been some studies by the Sith in order to exist as Force ghosts, but Vader couldn’t say that they had made any significant breakthroughs) He couldn’t help but wonder, really, if it was possible for his mother to come back if only so he could interact with her. If he could bring her back.  
If…  
  
Sidious had talked time and time again about manipulating the midichlorians if only to create life. But as far as he, Terminus and Ventress knew, it was really nothing more than a dream. Nothing more than a foolish sort of endeavor.  
Which meant that Terminus’ initial quest was nothing more than a waste. All of it.  
  
Vader took a deep breath. It was times like this when more than anything, he hated Sidious, if only for what he had done to Terminus. He couldn’t say that he had had much love for Obi-Wan Kenobi (the most he could say about the man was that at the very least, the man was honest in terms of his utter contempt for him. He couldn’t say any other Jedi was. They always sort of buried it under layers of self-righteousness and “it will destroy you” and other layers of meaninglessness, a bunch of talking without really saying anything, but Obi-Wan had at least been honest in terms of his contempt for Vader), but even seeing him like this…  
  
Even seeing him like this hurt. In terms of getting him into the Vader suit and everything else, Obi-Wan had almost protested at first, before the medics had said that it was the only way to really have him survive, considering that most of his internal organs had somehow – and even then, Vader couldn’t understand how lava could even cause that much damage. It couldn’t be possible. Perhaps it was (after all, the lava on Sullust was quite dangerous) and yet there was a part of him that thought that it couldn’t be possible. Not really – been heavily damaged. His lungs especially. He would need a whole life support system if only to breathe. Having most of his hair singed off was bad enough, but all of this…  
  
It was enough to make Vader wonder why Padme would even do something like this. After all, it wasn’t like her to simply leave someone else to die. She would have been pleading with them to come with her, to find another way – she would have been trying to save them. After all, she wasn’t like the other Jedi. Most of their empathy seemed to come off as false or condescending at best. But Padme…she cared. She truly, deeply cared.  
  
And perhaps that had been one of many things that Vader couldn’t help but admire about her.  
  
Nothing about that horrible battle on Sullust made sense, nothing about it added up. Even trying to get the full story from Terminus…the man didn’t seem willing to talk about it.  
  
Then again, Vader thought, he couldn’t say that Terminus was really himself anymore. It seemed almost as if Sullust had hollowed him out, made him an entirely different man. And though he couldn’t say that he had had much love for the man before – he was admirable, Vader supposed, but that wasn’t exactly the same thing. You could admire someone without really liking them that much, at the very least – even seeing him like this…  
  
It was then that he felt Ventress’ presence behind him. “You seem to be drifting again,” the Dark Jedi said.  
  
Vader turned to look at Ventress. “Am I?” He couldn’t help but smile if only slightly wryly.  
  
Ventress sighed. “You…I heard you. You were tossing and turning a lot.”  
  
Vader grew more serious again. “Was I?”  
  
“Yes,” Ventress said. “I just have to wonder…is everything all right?”  
  
How was he going to explain all of this to her? How was he going to explain all these recurring dreams he had about Mustafar? And even worse, visions of something else around the corner entirely – creatures that couldn’t be sensed in the Force, creatures that worshipped pain, creatures that ravaged and pillaged and burned? The worst of the nightmares was seeing them ravaging the Empire itself, reducing Coruscant, their empire, everything that they had worked so hard to build – everything built on peace, freedom, justice and security – burning before their eyes. Even remembering it was enough to make Vader all but shiver.  
  
“No,” he said. “It really isn’t.” He sighed. “I’ve been having all these nightmares, Asajj. They…vary, shall we say. But there have been things such as that night on Mustafar…” He rubbed his head. “I don’t understand. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why she did it. She wouldn’t do it. The Padme I knew wouldn’t do it.”  
  
“You hold her in quite high esteem, don’t you?”  
  
How could he not, really? He could still remember her grace, the way she fought, her quiet determination, her kindness, the moments that she smiled – he couldn’t really recall when he had first fallen in love with her, so to speak…the first seeds of it had started on Geonosis, at the very least. But in the Clone Wars…he couldn’t say which specific instance had led him to love this woman more than anything he had ever known. She was all too easy to love. To admire. He could still see her at times – the fierce, radiant angel from the moons of Iego itself, wielding a lightsaber, seeming almost as if to glow on occasion.  
  
The Sith were not ones to believe in gods, most of the time. But if there was ever anything close to a god, or a goddess, that Vader believed in, it was her. Padme Naberrie. The Chosen One. The woman who burned like the stars themselves. The woman who seemed to exist amongst the stars.  
  
So Vader nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I…hold her in very high esteem.”  
  
Ventress laid a hand along his shoulder. “You know full well that it won’t be meant to be,” she said. “After all…relationships between Jedi and Sith aren’t meant to end in happily ever after.” A beat. “ _We_ aren’t meant for happily ever after. We are Sith. We serve the cause until we die. You know full well that there is no chance.”  
  
“I’m not looking for happily ever after.” If nothing else, Ventress was right. A happy ending was unrealistic, to say the very least. Relationships between Jedi and Sith, or a love for a Jedi from a Sith or vice versa – it was meant for nothing else than to end in tragedy. Instances, for example, when the former Sith Lord Darth Revan had fallen in love – albeit in a state of amnesia, apparently. Even picturing something like that was enough to repulse Vader; who in the name of the twin suns themselves would think that all but violating the mind of someone else was even remotely acceptable in terms of achieving their goal, whatever their goal was? – with the Jedi Bastila Shan, and later redeemed her, only to die in battle (at least, according to the records. Sidious had been skeptical of those, to say the least; he had been disbelieving that such a powerful former Sith Lord could simply die in battle like that. Vader couldn’t say he disagreed). And Darth Sion and the Jedi Exile Arawn Sinn, when he had ultimately been killed if only by his love for her.  
  
More than anything, Vader wanted a happy ending for the both of them. If not a happy ending, an ending that worked out in their favor. He wanted, more than anything, for her to love him too (although then again, he thought darkly, what were the odds of something like that happening? He was the enemy of her Order, and someone who had assisted Sidious in the events that ultimately led to the fall of her Master, someone she counted close to a best friend, and the near-wiping out of the Temple. And he had assisted personally, along with Terminus, in hunting the Jedi that were left, if only out of duty). He wanted to take her away from the wretched denizens of the galaxy and have her all but go soaring along with him and Ventress. But he knew that if nothing else, it would destroy them in the end.  
But how could he deny it? Those…things he felt, when one of the many rules for a Sith was to love no one? How was he –  
  
“Vader,” Ventress said, “You are a terrible liar. I’ve known you long enough to at least know that.”  
  
Vader chuckled if only ruefully. Then, “Yes. I love her. But I know that any semblance of a happy ending for any of us…it won’t work. The odds of it working are…slim at best.”  
  
Still, he thought, perhaps there was a chance somewhere in the future. Perhaps there was hope for them. But for now, he would have to stand with Ventress, looking out over the dark landscape of Coruscant’s glittering towers at night, and wonder if he wasn’t just completely mad.  
  
They were all mad some way or another. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t be there.  
  
But how mad would one have to be before it ultimately sabotaged everything that said mad person had ever worked for?  
  
Vader could only hope that it never came to this. 


	4. Discontent In The Senate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we're introduced to Ben Organa and Leia Organa, and things are set up for the opening of A New Hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Thought that I'd post this before I go off to do my French homework and everything else. I was definitely worried about, amongst other things, making sure that not only are the canon characters in-character, but the original characters are likeable. It's definitely a fear that hangs over my head whenever I write original characters -- whether or not they're likeable or at least compelling. 
> 
> Also, the matter of opening the story with more character-oriented chapters was definitely a conscious choice for me. I kind of wanted to have the audience care about the characters before the shit hit the fan as well as sort of set things up -- the matter of Mara's restlessness, Padme's grief, Vader questioning if there's something more, and in this chapter, the matter of Ben and Leia having to masquerade as the "good little Senators", so to speak, all while working to bring the Emperor down. And to sort of set up, at least somewhat, the matter of how bad things really are under the Empire and how bad the Rebellion is really losing (at least judging by the opening crawl of A New Hope) prior to the Battle of Yavin IV. And to sort of set up what it might be like living this sort of stressful lifestyle -- I can definitely imagine that it would be terrifying, trying to deceive the Emperor and his enforcers (enforcer in canon), all while no doubt living with the threat of being arrested and/or executed. I'd be terrified, really. 
> 
> Also, the matter of setting up Terminus' character -- after all, Padme and Vader have mentioned him, but we've never gotten a glimpse into his thoughts or seen him until now. I've sort of seen Terminus as this sort of Inspector Javert character; he doesn't think of himself as the bad guy, he's just doing his duty. Even if it does mean arresting people and committing multiple atrocities. (Also, I apparently have written way too many Well-Intentioned Extremist characters. I think the appeal of them for me is that, well, it's easy to just write a character who does evil things for the sake of it. There's something about a bad guy who thinks that he's in the right while doing evil things that just, for me personally, is far more terrifying)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter.

The problem with being in the Senate at times, Ben Organa thought, was that sometimes one had little to no idea what they were doing. And in the case of the new Senate that was now ruled over by Emperor Palpatine and his enforcers, Darth Terminus, Darth Vader, and Asajj Ventress, one could say that one could get as I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing as one could get.  
  
Even standing by Leia’s side, Ben could only hope that she could present her case well enough. Try and keep her best “sabaac face”, so to speak. If anyone in the Senate suspected anything, that they were actually working for the Rebel Alliance, it could compromise everything that they had ever worked for.  
  
His father had made it all too clear, ever since Ben was a child, that one of many goals that he had to work towards was, pure and simply, to be a good little Senator. “Mind your manners and keep your head down”, as he put it. And yet at the same time, Ben thought, how could he really do something like that when, in fact, they were all but supporting – granted, from the outside, but even so – a regime of pure tyranny?  
  
Leia stood now, and there was something about her presence, Ben thought, that could quiet just about everyone in the room. Even as they were arguing about the Empire’s latest treatment of those in the Outer Rim – more precisely, how they seemed more intent on pursuing alleged traitors than helping people. Palpatine especially. The man could go on about how he was preserving peace, freedom, justice and security all he wanted, but he was, to say the least, lying. All he really cared about was enforcing power, and doing it poorly at that, because considering that thus far, he’d failed to notice that his “good little Senators” were actually working behind his back, one could argue that he wasn’t exactly the most observant man around. That or the man was just plain arrogant. Ben had seen him enough to know that – everyone seemed to fall silent at Leia’s presence. Ben, meanwhile, tried his best to keep himself composed, to, pure and simply, not let his façade slip. If it did, to say the least, they were all done for.  
  
“I know full well that this is a difficult situation,” Leia said, and Ben could swear that he saw a muscle twitch in her face, almost as if she was longing to say what she actually thought of the situation. Gods knew that he wanted to as well. But he couldn’t. The best he could do was, at least surreptitiously, offer reassurance. Hold her hand if only briefly, before letting her give her speech. He could only hope that she would do all right. He could only hope…  
  
Leia continued. “But I think as much as we want to assist those in need, there are more urgent matters at hand. We have to make sure,” she said, and Ben could swear that another muscle in her face twitched. He could pray that the other members in the Senate didn’t see that. “That peace and security is enforced, as well as helping those in need. It’s the right thing to do.”  
  
Someone else in the Senate now spoke. “Are you suggesting that helping the sick and the needy is unimportant?”  
  
Ben almost felt the urge to snap at the person who had said that, before quickly correcting himself.  _It’s all part of the show, Ben,_ he told himself.  _It’s only guaranteed that something like this would happen. Calm down._  
  
Leia continued to keep her calm. “No,” she said, “But I believe that we have to preserve peace as best we can. No matter what happens.”  
  
It was long after they were able to leave the Senate that Ben turned to look at Leia. “You did well,” he said. “Really well.”  
  
“I don’t know.” Leia sighed. “I could swear…Terminus – the way he was looking at the both of us, I think he knew that we were lying.”  
  
Ben couldn’t argue with that. The way that Terminus was looking at them – then again, there was always something about Terminus that, to say the least, almost scared Ben. Sometimes he swore that the masked man was looking right through them. The watchful guardian of the Empire, ready to kill or imprison anyone, with the help of his fellow enforcers, should they step out of line…  
  
“Don’t worry,” he said. “If he does come after us, we’re going to be ready.” A beat. “We’ve got the Death Star plans. We’ve got something that the Empire doesn’t.”  
  
Leia raised an eyebrow.  
  
“We know their weaknesses,” Ben said. “I mean, this is fantastic, isn’t it? Finally, some sort of turning point in the war!”  
  
Leia took a deep breath, rubbed her forehead. “I certainly hope you’re right, Ben,” she said. “Otherwise…otherwise we’re all going to be vulnerable.”  
  
They walked away now, and even as they did, Ben could swear that he could feel Terminus’ eyes on them still, watching them, quietly waiting for them to make their first mistake. He could only hope that that wasn’t the case.  
  
He could only hope, that at the very least, they would be able to get out of this all right.  
  
He could only hope…  
  
***  
  
They were lying.  
  
It didn’t exactly take a mind-reader – although there was the matter of what Terminus had felt in the Force. They were radiating particularly powerful emotions, some of which could be described as anxiety, fear, and a sort of restlessness, a sort of desire to break free – to tell that they were lying. For all they tried to keep their lie concealed – and by the Force, they did! How they tried – it was obvious as anything else. They were lying.  
  
They were keeping all of this under their noses.  
  
Terminus supposed the key was to understand why. Granted, “why” didn’t matter. They would be arrested soon enough, taken into custody, and in time, they would be asked about their plan, what they were about to do, and perhaps the Empire could stop it. It was nothing personal. Not really. It was just the law. It was what the Empire had laid out long ago. It was what they were trying to preserve after all these years –  
  
All right, Terminus thought, perhaps it was more than slightly personal. This, after all – this was something he had been fighting to preserve all these years, and these Senators, these Rebels, were seeking to topple it. They were seeking to undo everything that the Empire had ever worked for, and for what? So they could call themselves heroes? How was any of what they were doing heroic?  
  
“Are you all right?” Vader, this time. The younger Sith Lord stepped towards Terminus, his brows furrowed. There were circles under his eyes again, Terminus thought. He hadn’t been sleeping.  
  
“I am,” Terminus said. “I just believe…”  
  
“Go on, say it.” Vader’s voice was tense, worried.  
  
“I believe,” Terminus said, “That both Leia Organa and Ben Organa are traitors.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Then Vader laughed. It wasn’t out of any sort of amusement, but disbelief.  
  
“Terminus,” he said, “How can you even say that? They’re loyal to the cause, they’re dedicated – they’re nothing at all like the other…the other terrorists.”  
  
Terminus supposed he should have suspected that response. Vader was still very much naïve, he thought. Something that could occasionally be endearing, but was mostly just irritating.  
  
“Terrorists can come as those of peace,” he said, “I don’t think that you should really be surprised. You felt it too, didn’t you?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Vader rubbed his forehead. “Honestly, everything in the room – it could have been anyone, really. Any one of them could be the traitors. You could be jumping to conclusions.”  
  
 _Perhaps._ And yet, somehow, Terminus thought, if they were the traitors…  
  
“Don’t worry.” Vader laid a hand on Terminus’ shoulder. Terminus couldn’t say that he expected it – and in all honesty, ever since he had had to wear the suit if only to keep himself from collapsing and dying altogether, he hadn’t really been touched much. He couldn’t say that it was the most important thing in the galaxy, and yet… -- but it was strangely nice, he supposed. “We’re going to catch them, and everything’s going to be all right again. You’ll see.”  
  
“Maybe.” Terminus could only hope that Vader was right. Otherwise…otherwise they would all be vulnerable. The day of judgment that the Dark Woman had warned him about when they had dueled on Cophrigin V. He could only hope that they could avert this as much as they could.  
  
And yet there was something in him that told him that it was already too late.


	5. And Your Facade Comes Crashing Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the mission to Alderaan goes horribly wrong, and Ben, Leia and the droids have to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Let's say that in terms of changing things back to Ar-Too -- it was originally going to be an astromech OC, but then I kind of remembered Ar-Too serving with Padme during the Clone Wars, and I decided to change it. (Yes, I recognize how strange that sounds, but let's say that I have a bit of a habit of being a bit forgetful at times. My mom suggested that I do an outline so I'm less so. She's been really supportive and really helpful in my writing, bless her. :)
> 
> Anyway, this was another favorite to write in terms of the heavy action and all. Even if the technobabble sort of tripped me up (I think it's remembering specific terms for things and making sure you've got the right one that's a bit intimidating. Yeah I know.) Hope you like it!

One thing that Ben knew was that in a way, their deception of the Empire would not be able to last forever. He had known it at the very least in the back of his mind – a sort of subconscious knowledge, a worrying when, exactly, the Empire would find out, and what would become of them. They had done their best if only to evade Palpatine and the others, at least in their ways, being good little Senators and doing what they were told, and just generally doing what they had to do, playing their parts, but in a way, Ben still couldn’t help but worry. And it was then, on the way back to their home planet of Alderaan to deliver the Death Star plans, with the help of R3-D1, that the worst case scenario happened.  
  
Everything that Ben had feared. Everything that he had worried about.  
  
A Star Destroyer had just fired on their ship. And it wasn’t even accidental, Ben knew that. Even as he tried if only in vain to get it away from the Star Destroyer, it seemed to know exactly where to hit. The ship was suffering critical failure. They would need to at least get the Death Star plans to safety. That was the best that they could do.  
  
He turned towards Leia, took her hand. “Come on,” he said, “We should really get down to the escape pods. Find Threepio and Ar-Too.”  
  
Leia merely nodded. There was something in her that Ben doubted that he had ever seen before: genuine panic. When the usually unflappable Princess Leia was panicking…  
  
He laid a hand over his adoptive sister’s. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “We can do this. I promise.”  
  
Leia merely nodded.  
  
It was lower that he heard the faint chatter of Threepio, as the android did commonly under stress – granted, it was almost Threepio’s default setting, talking quickly, but even so, the android sounded the closest that Ben supposed that androids could come to panic. “Did you hear that?” the golden android said. “They’ve shut down the main reactor! We’ll be destroyed for sure. This is madness!”  
  
And something about even that made Ben’s heart sink. He couldn’t disagree with Threepio. This, if nothing else, was now doomsday.  
  
This was the day that their carefully constructed façade of being good little Senators, their life of secrecy and espionage and dual roles – this was the day that it ended.  
  
Threepio turned towards Ben and Leia. “Master Ben! Princess Leia! Thank goodness you’re here!”  
  
“It’s good to see you too, Threepio. Is everything okay?”  
  
“I’m afraid not, sir,” Threepio said, “I’m afraid we’re doomed.”  
  
Ar-Too let out a series of almost sarcastic beeps. THAT’S WHAT YOU ALWAYS SAY.  
  
“No, I think he’s right, Ar-Too,” Ben said, “I think that we’re in trouble.”  
  
“Don’t say that.” Leia, this time. “Don’t ever say that. We’ve never given up. You’ve never given up.”  
  
Ben supposed that she was right, really. And yet at the same time, he had heard too many stories about what the Empire did to their prisoners to really feel otherwise. The idea of anyone on this ship ending up in the Empire’s hands, tortured, perhaps nearly to death, until finally, they were executed…  
  
Ben closed his eyes.  
  
“We need to get to the escape pods,” he said, “Come on.”  
  
They headed now towards the escape pods. Even as they did, Ben heard, in the distance, the sound of the doors being blasted open, and the screams of Rebel officers onboard the  _Tantive IV_ as they were caught in the blast. Stormtroopers, shooting them down with ease, even as they headed towards the escape pods, shooting at stormtroopers as best they could.  
  
And finally, they reached the escape pods. Ben and Leia climbed in. Threepio, meanwhile, paused.  
  
“Threepio,” Ben said, “Come on! We have to get out of there.”  
  
“Are you sure, sir?” Threepio said. “I mean, it’s restricted…”  
  
Ben sighed. Loyal, dutiful, and as generally nice as Threepio was – ever since Ben was a boy – the android was a near-impossible stickler for rules. “Threepio,” he said, “I don’t think that there’s really any room for rules at the moment. Come on.”  
  
Ar-Too let out a series of beeps. HONESTLY, THREEPIO, I THINK YOU’D MAKE A WONDERFUL CSF OFFICER.  
  
“Oh,  _really_?” Threepio sounded downright indignant. “At least – ’’  
  
Whatever rebuttal he was about to have was cut off as the  _Tantive IV_ rocked with a new blast from the Star Destroyer. The ship was smoking now, and even flames themselves were rising near Threepio. Ben sighed.  
  
“Threepio,” he said, “We  _have_  to leave! For the sake of the mission.”  
  
“What mission?”  
  
Ben groaned. He supposed he should have told Threepio about the matter of the Death Star plans. “It’s a long story,” he said, “Ar-Too can tell you about it when we get out of here. Now come on!”  
  
Threepio let out an electronic sigh. “I really am going to regret this, aren’t I?”  
  
He shuffled inside the escape pod, Artoo following. Ben shut the door, and he and Leia buckled themselves in.  
  
It was as the escape pod took off that Ben looked up towards the ruins of the  _Tantive IV._ He sighed, rubbed his forehead. “You know,” he said, if only dryly, “The damage almost doesn’t look that bad from down there…”  
  
Leia looked towards him if only in disbelief. “Honestly, Ben…”  
  
“All right,” Ben said, “It does look pretty bad.” He rubbed his temples again. “I just hope that the others are all right. I mean, everything else…it’s going to be all right, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yeah,” Leia said, “I certainly hope so.”  
  
He reached over towards Leia, held her hand as best he could even as the escape pod shot away towards the nearest planet, away from the Imperial Star Destroyer shooting at them, and towards an uncertain future. 


	6. Capture and Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Terminus and co. infiltrate the ruins of the Tantive IV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was another favorite of mine to write, especially the Terminus and Vader conversation. I guess it helps that I was in a rather downer mood when I was writing the story so maybe I was projecting a little bit, but it's a pretty good character moment, I think. Character moments are always good, really. Plot's all well and good, as is setting and theme and such, but character, emotion and dialogue -- they're definitely some of my favorites to write.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!

The Tantive IV was almost completely ruined. Even walking through the hallways, it seemed almost akin to a flaming graveyard. Corpses lying all around of stormtroopers and Rebel soldiers alike, some who had been killed on impact, some who had gone out trying to defend their cause the best they could, never mind that from a logical standpoint, Terminus thought, it was almost hopeless. Because really, they had died for nothing. They would, in the end, find the plans that the Rebels had taken from the Empire, and they would punish those responsible.  
  
He had always known, at least in a way, that Ben and Leia Organa were not what they appeared to be. They were charming enough, yes, but then again, terrorists could come as those of peace. They could appear to be normal Senators while secretly being traitors.  
They could say all they wanted that they weren’t terrorists, that it was the Empire who were the real terrorists, but Terminus knew better. All the crimes that they had committed in the name of freedom, all those military sections that they had attacked, everything they had done – when the Rebels were finally defeated as they were meant to, they would be put on trial for war crimes. It was the right thing to do, after all.  
  
It wasn’t merely the matter of the law, although there was that. It was the fact that, despite everything the Alliance said, Darth Terminus was trying if only his best to do the right thing. To preserve peace and justice, as the galaxy should have had. And still, people condemned him for it. After everything that had happened, after instances such as Myrkr, after instances such as Ahsoka’s death, after all the war crimes that the Separatists themselves had committed, after everything that had happened, after Mace going over the edge that he had been very much trembling on, how could they blame him for everything that had happened? How could they even say that he, Vader and Ventress were the bad guys?  
  
Because they weren’t. True, they had committed plenty of atrocities of their own, and yet at the same time, they had done this, all of this, if only for the greater good. A better galaxy. A galaxy where deaths such as Qui-Gon’s wouldn’t have to happen again, or deaths like Ahsoka’s and Steela’s and so many others.  
  
A galaxy where, just this once, everything turned out all right. A galaxy where just this once, nothing went wrong.  
  
A galaxy where, just this once, there was no war, and the Rebels were trying to destroy everything that they had ever worked for. And for what? What would they do after that? What would happen next? For all intents and purposes, they would continue the cycle that they were trying to avert.  
  
For all intents and purposes, they could become just as bad as they said that the Empire was.  
  
“You seem…sad.”  
  
Vader, this time, the soft, sort of gentle, serious voice cutting through his thoughts. Terminus turned to look towards the younger Sith Lord. “Do I?” He supposed that there was a degree of that, even underneath the anger. Because looking over the corpses of all these soldiers, he could see all the people who had died during the Clone Wars. Battlefields filled with fallen soldiers. And even the Jedi that he had slaughtered in the Temple – and all for what? What was the point of all of this, any of this? What was the point? “Yes,” Terminus said, “I suppose I do.”  
  
“What are you thinking about?” Vader’s voice was gentle, and yet there was a sort of curiosity to it that almost, Terminus thought with a sad sort of amusement, sounded like a child. For all intents and purposes, though the younger Sith Lord was much older – in his thirties by now, Terminus thought with a sudden jolt – there were times when he seemed to show the emotional experience of a child. Trusting, open, not quite understanding. Or if not a child, at least a fifteen year old. Vader seemed so very trusting, so very much believing that everything would turn out for the best, but in truth, it wasn’t to be. In situations like this, Terminus thought, “things will turn out all right in the end” was hardly applicable.  
  
“I…” Breathing seemed to be almost difficult, not that it wasn’t already – considering that machines did most of his breathing for him now (Terminus and Vader had both been trying to work on ways to heal Terminus’ broken body, but Terminus couldn’t say that they were there yet) – but in this moment, Terminus felt almost as if his chest were squeezed in a vice. “All these people,” he said, “Dead. And for what? Nothing. The Rebels…they really don’t realize what they’re doing. How they’re sabotaging everything that we’re working for. Everything we tried so hard to preserve. It’s simply…it’s going to the Corellian hells. I know this.”  
  
“Don’t talk like that.” Vader’s eyes seemed almost to become distressed, concerned. He hated whenever that happened. “It will be all right. You’ll see.”  
  
Terminus reached now into the Force, drawing as best he could on his rage, his sense of duty, his sense of purpose, if only to calm himself.  _Embrace it. Let it motivate you. Let it help you._ “You,” he said, “Sometimes I wonder how you became a Sith. I mean…you’re too hopeful for your own good.”  
  
“I won’t be. Not yet.” Vader seemed almost thoughtful. “I do know that…I would be proud.”  
  
“Of being a Sith?”  
  
“Yes,” Vader said. “But also…” He swallowed. “If you were my master. You are more worthy than Sidious. I know this.”  
  
Something about what Vader said unexpectedly warmed Terminus even after everything. The galaxy was all but falling to shreds around them, everything they worked for was already crashing down, but at the very least…Vader believed in him. He seemed to have a talent for continuing to believe in Terminus even after all this time.  
  
“You’re too kind to me.”  
  
“But it is true.” Vader took a deep breath. “I think we’d better get going. And hope that the Rebels didn’t send us on a wild bantha chase…”  
  
And even as Terminus led them on, he could only pray along with Vader that that was not the case.  
  
Even standing amongst the broken bodies of their foes, Terminus couldn’t help but think back to previous instances during the Clone Wars. When he had fought alongside Padme, and so many others. Some would no doubt call the war glorious, but in truth, there was nothing about war that was glorious. Master Yoda – and even after all this time, he couldn’t help but feel some degree of affection for the former Grand Master. True, he was very much a flawed creature, but at the same time, he had been one of Obi-Wan’s biggest influences, and almost like a father figure to him. He had been valuable to him even after all these years. He knew that Yoda wouldn’t forgive him for what he had done, and yet there was a part of him in the back of his mind that, more than anything, wanted him to – had once said that “wars not make one great”, and even to this day, Terminus thought, it was true. War didn’t make someone great. Finding ways to avert it was.  
  
The problem was, he found, was that finding ways to prevent more suffering was heavily ironic at best, and downright hypocritical at worst. Trying to prevent more suffering if only through war. They hadn’t asked for the Rebels to attack, but at the same time, they had to fight them off nonetheless. And more than anything, Terminus hated it.  
  
The best he could do was find a way to recover the Death Star plans, and from there…  
  
Terminus couldn’t say how it would turn out. If they recovered the plans, it would be very likely that the Death Star would go on and have to likely destroy more innocent people. Tarkin, he knew, seemed very eager about it.  
  
He’d always hated the Grand Moff, in all truth. Tarkin seemed completely unaware of it, seeming to think that he somehow had power over Terminus, that he could keep him in line, that they were somehow friends, but really, Terminus thought, they were not friends. They were as far from friends as one could get, really. If they were “friends”, Terminus thought if only darkly, then so were the Separatists and the Trade Federation.  
  
And one of those reasons he hated Tarkin so much was the matter of the Grand Moff’s unnecessary sadism. He was all too eager to test out their new creation, thinking that it could somehow keep the Rebels “in line”, never mind that they would only fight back harder. It would only make the Rebels more dangerous, and Tarkin was completely unaware of that fact. As if he couldn’t hate the Grand Moff any more than he did already…  
  
The only reason that he was around, Terminus mused if only darkly, was because Palpatine favored him. And considering that Terminus was very much subservient to Palpatine, it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it.  
  
It was then that an Imperial officer ran over towards Terminus, obviously trying to not stumble over the pile of bodies in his wake. “My lord,” he said, “We checked the computers of the  _Tantive IV_ , and we found nothing. For all intents and purposes, the Death Star plans are not in the computer.” He swallowed. “I can’t say that I know where they are.”  
  
Already, Terminus could feel his chest as if it were being squeezed in a vise. Still, he couldn’t afford to panic. No matter what happened. He turned to look at one of the wounded Rebel officers that now lay on the floor. The Rebel officer groaned if only softly, obviously still in pain from the burns that he had just suffered in that moment. Terminus felt if only a twinge of pity, but that was gone as quickly as it came.  
  
“Where are these transmissions that you intercepted?” He supposed that he might as well at least be succinct about it, he might as well be somewhat reasonable. He doubted that the Rebel officer would answer – after all, as long as he felt that he was protecting something particularly valuable, he no doubt didn’t see any reason to tell the Empire. That and he would no doubt think, Terminus mused, that it was better to die a martyr than live as a traitor – but at the very least…  
  
The Rebel officer groaned, squinted at Terminus. Even through the pain, Terminus thought, he could swear that he saw a glimpse of hatred and utter fear from the officer. Not just at the matter of Terminus’ presence, but at the matter of the simple fact that the deception of the other Rebels aboard the  _Tantive IV_ had failed.  
  
“There were no transmissions,” the Rebel officer said, even through the pain. “We intercepted no transmissions. This is a consular ship. We were on a diplomatic mission – ’’  
  
Already, irritation flared up in Terminus even though he tried if only vainly to control himself. He couldn’t afford to lose his temper. Not now. He had to stay calm. Even though if nothing else, this idiot of a Rebel officer was already testing his patience. “If this is a consular ship,” Terminus said, if only calmly, “Where is the ambassador?”  
  
The Rebel officer didn’t say anything. Already, the irritation was beginning to spike in Terminus. He would, if nothing else, have to do this the hard way.  
  
He reached out through the Force, grabbing the Rebel officer’s throat with it. The Rebel officer choked and gagged even as he used the Force to lift the officer into the air. The Rebel officer continued to writhe, to choke, before finally going silent.  
Terminus lowered him to the ground if only in frustration and disgust. That, he mused, could have gone better. That, he mused, could have actually gone without any killings. But instead, the Rebel officer apparently thought that it was better to die a martyr than to actually be sensible. Typical.  
  
A sudden pang filled Terminus even thinking about it. All these people who had died a martyr if only for nothing…  
  
He shoved it aside and turned to the other Imperial officers. “Continue to search the ship,” he said, “Find the plans, and the ambassador. I want them alive.”  
  
The Imperial officers obeyed. Terminus rubbed his head if only wearily. Already, he thought, he was tired.  
  
“You didn’t have to kill him,” Ventress said, but it was an almost calm, cold sort of observation. A sort of “you could have done much better than you did”. And Terminus supposed that he couldn’t disagree. If nothing else, this was turning out to be quite the stressful day.  
“I know,” Terminus said, “But he chose that fate for himself.” A beat. “I suppose in their eyes, it’s better to die a martyr than to see sense.”  
  
Ventress merely raised an eyebrow. “I suppose,” she said, “I can’t argue with that.”  
  
The best he could do, he thought, was continue to search the escape pods as well. Search everywhere on  _Tantive IV_ until he found out the truth. And from there…from there, he could decide what needed to be done. 


	7. Fire In The Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luke and Mara meet Ben, Leia and company. The start of a beautiful fellowship is formed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: This was one of my favorite chapters to write. I just love the character dynamics here.

Normally, Mara thought, if one was really talking about Tatooine, when they typically thought of Tatooine, they thought of a sort of planet that seemed to never change, day after day. If there was a bright center to the universe, as Luke had said once, they were on the planet that it was farthest from. The most boring planet in the universe – a sandy, dusty planet that never seemed to change no matter what. Where every routine, no matter what day it was, involved returning home and working on the ever-breaking vaporators, before going to bed and wondering, really, if there was really anything else for you out there besides this.  
  
But out on the moisture farm, this was not one of those days.  
  
It was while Mara was working along with one of the droids on the moisture farm to help repair the vaporators that she saw it. She squinted, raising the binoculars to her eyes, only to see an explosion of brightness in the sky. If she wasn’t mistaken, this looked, if nothing else, a lot like a space battle.  
  
Perhaps it wasn’t. And yet there was something about it that didn’t seem like it could be anything else.  
  
Mara could feel her heart all but pounding against her chest, and, even in spite of herself, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement – and fear. What could all of this even mean? Something like this didn’t happen over Tatooine. It couldn’t be…  
  
 _No,_ she thought. She had to continue her work. She had to keep working, no matter what.  
  
So even as she continued working, repairing the vaporators, Mara could only wonder what this explosion, this fire in the sky, could mean – and what it would most likely bring for the future.  
  
***  
  
It was early in the morning that Luke, heading out if only to do the daily work, saw the burst of fire in the sky. He squinted, lifting up his binoculars. If he didn’t know better, he thought, there seemed to be some sort of space battle going on overhead. And more than that, something…falling. Falling from the sky.  
  
Luke could have sworn that his heart skipped a beat. Something like that – these things couldn’t happen on Tatooine. They just didn’t. And yet here they were.  
  
He had to tell someone. Anyone. And right now, he had a feeling that he knew exactly who to tell.  
  
He ran towards Mara’s house in that moment, ignoring some of the comments from the others who had woken up if only to do their work on the moisture farms as well. Things like, “Oh, it’s just Wormie” and “What the stang has gotten into Wormie today?” amongst other things. He had to tell Mara. He had to.  
  
It was then that he found her, working on the vaporators, working on the daily repair work. And it was then that she raised her head.  
  
“Oh,” she said, “Hey, Luke.” A faint smile. “You saw it too?”  
  
“Yeah.” Already, Luke thought, he was feeling elated and worried at the same time. What could this mean, for all of them? What could it possibly mean? “There’s something else too.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Mara’s eyes seemed to come alive with curiosity in that moment. “What happened?”  
  
“Something fell from the sky,” Luke said. “Some sort of…object. I’m starting to think that it was some sort of escape pod, at least from what I gathered.”  
  
Mara’s brow seemed to furrow now. Then, “Well,” she said, “We might as well go and take a look. I mean…” She sighed. “I guess I shouldn’t be doing this. I mean, I’m already in enough trouble with Mom and Dad as it is. But…” A faint smile. “I could never resist a bit of a mystery.”  
  
Luke grinned. “That’s the spirit.”  
  
Mara looked at him, smiling as well, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but be utterly captivated by it. He loved it – the way that her face would light up, the way that her eyes would light up as well. If nothing else, with her green eyes and pale but freckled skin and her long red hair that cascaded down her back, she looked like the fire goddess of a distant religion. A sun goddess, perhaps. “Come on, Luke,” she said. “Let’s go.”  
  
***  
The thing about the Dune Sea, Mara thought, was that it seemed to stretch out for miles and miles, a sort of infinity, really. Even following Luke’s directions as to where he thought the escape pod crashed, she couldn’t help but wonder how they were going to find it when the sand seemed to stretch out like an ocean.  
  
That was one of those things about Tatooine that was beautiful, and yet at the same time, seemed to represent everything that she hated about the damn planet. Nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. Nothing changing in the slightest. The twin suns would come up every day and the sand would get in your eyes and on your clothes and you’d do the same work that you always did. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand why they had to do it, but at the same time, there was something in her that wondered if there was more to this, all of this, than what they had. Luke said that, at the very least, but at the same time, Mara thought, she didn’t know – she couldn’t know, really – if Luke was right about all this. If there was more to their lives than what they had.  
  
Mara looked through the binoculars now. So far, no escape pod wreckage, not that she could see. For all intents and purposes, there was nothing.  
  
It was then, however, that she found it. Smoking wreckage. She lowered her binoculars, turned to Luke. “Well,” she said if only softly, “I think we found it, Luke. Come on.”  
  
It was inspecting the wreckage that she found them. Two droids. One a tall, gold sort of protocol droid, the other an astromech droid, blue and white. The protocol droid was already arguing with the astromech droid. “…and I swear, Ar-Too, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that we had been there before…”  
  
Mara furrowed her brow. She supposed that now was the time to at least try and get some answers. “Um…hi,” she said. “My name’s Mara. Mara Lars. This is my friend, Luke Brackett. We saw the space battle above, and we thought…we thought you’d need some help.”  
The protocol droid’s voice seemed to change instantly. “Oh thank goodness,” he said, “We never thought that we’d get any help. We…our spacecraft was attacked on the way to Alderaan. Ar-Too, my companion, said something about a mission, but I can’t say that she was very specific.”  
  
Ar-Too let out a series of beeps now. IT’S A LONG STORY. I’LL TELL YOU WHEN WE GET OUT OF THE DUNE SEA. FOR NOW, THE AMBASSADORS ARE IN DANGER.  
  
“Ambassadors?” This, Mara thought, was getting even more complicated than it already was.  
  
It was then that she found them. A young woman, a very pretty woman at that, with her hair done up in a style that Mara could only say reminded her almost of cinnamon buns. She was dressed all in white, and she looked kind of scuffed up, to say the least. And the man beside her – he was kind of handsome, in a way, Mara thought, with his dark hair that fell around his face. He was also dressed in white, and also looked kind of…scuffed up.  
  
She didn’t know what happened to them. She could probably find a way to sort of work this out once she took them back to the hut.  
  
“It’s all right,” she said to the protocol droid. “We’re going to heal them up. I mean…” She sighed. “We’re not exactly the best at healing, but we can try. Trust me on this.”  
  
“Thank you, Mistress Mara.”  
  
There was something about it that almost made Mara smile. “Just call me Mara,” she said. “Trust me on this. Mistress Mara is kind of a bit too formal and everything.” A beat. “What’s your name, by the way? I don’t think I really caught it.”  
  
“Oh, goodness gracious me! I don’t think we were properly introduced. I am See Threepio, human-cyborg relations. I am fluent in over six million forms of communication…”  
  
“Do you speak Bocce by any means?” Mara said, even as they headed back towards the hut, carrying the two ambassadors. “I mean, I know that my dad – well, he’s not really my dad, he’s my uncle. My dad died in some sort of spice freighter accident, he said. But anyway, he’d definitely like a droid that speaks Bocce around here. I think he’d like that a lot.”  
  
“It’s almost a second language to me, Miss.”  
  
“What about Ar-Too?” Mara said. “I mean, how is he?”  
  
“He’s a very rebellious astromech,” C-3PO said. “Quite insufferable, but very clever. Very smart. Very skilled. I think that he can help you out in many areas – ’’  
  
Ar-Too beeped almost as if in amusement. ARE YOU COMPLIMENTING ME, C-3PO?  
  
“Yes, I am,” C-3PO said, almost impatiently. “For the maker’s sake, don’t rub it in. Please.”  
  
Mara, even in spite of herself, couldn’t help but laugh. Somehow, she thought, they and the droids were going to get on great.  
  
***  
There was something about watching the six of them walk away that, even in spite of herself, almost broke Sabe’s heart. She could still remember long ago, giving birth to them on Polis Massa. The birthing process itself – painful, almost excruciating, feeling almost like her entire body was on fire. And then, the aftermath of it all – Padme still said that it was a miracle that she survived, because it seemed almost like, for a moment, that she was going to die.  
  
But she hadn’t died. Not really. She had managed to make it out all right. And even that was a miracle in and of itself.  
  
Sabe took a deep breath, rubbing her temples. Mara would have to accept her destiny sometime, Padme had told her. She could never really understand, she thought, all that Jedi talk of destiny and the Force. She almost did, but even after years of being married to Obi-Wan, she could never quite understand it. Not completely.  
  
 _Obi-Wan…_  
  
Even remembering was enough to send a sudden, painful pang through Sabe.  _Obi-Wan._ She could still remember so much about him – sitting with him, discussing baby names, his warm, rich sort of laugh, the way his eyes seemed to all but come alive, the feel of his body against her own, the warmth of his embrace, the taste of his lips, his selflessness, his kindness, his strange sense of mischief…  
  
She missed him. And even now, she doubted that she could ever truly understand what had driven him to do all these horrible things. She almost didn’t want to think about what could have driven him to do that.  
  
Padme walked up towards her now, placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?” she said if only softly.  
  
“I am,” Sabe said. “I mean…” She sighed. “It’s not easy. Even after everything that happened. I mean…”  
  
“I know.” Padme’s voice was soft even as she said it. Somehow, Sabe thought, she almost didn’t have to say what she wanted to say to Padme – that she wanted more than anything to be able to raise her children, to make sure that they were safe, to protect them and nurture them. Padme already knew. They had been close for so many years that in a way, some things didn’t need saying. Because the other already knew. “Just…whatever happens, we’re going to protect them. Make sure that they’re all right. Trust me on this, Sabe.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Because they would. No matter what happened, Terminus and the Emperor were not going to harm Mara and Ben. They could not, they would not.  
  
And if Sabe had to die in the process, Mara and Ben would be protected no matter what. 


	8. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben and Leia recover, and a beautiful friendship is born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: This is another favorite of mine. Ben and Leia interacting with Luke and Mara was definitely fun to write. :)

Leia, in all honesty, could not say how long she floated in that sort of dream world, that sort of strange world between consciousness or unconsciousness, before she finally managed to awake. And yet there was something about it, she thought, that was almost frightening to think about. Her father, Bail Organa, and her mother, Breha Organa, were in the dream, taking care of her and Ben, watching over them even as they continued their playing in the gardens of Alderaan. When the two of them were just children, and didn’t truly understand the horrors that awaited them in the future. Serving in the Senate, having to live a lie, to keep their best “sabaac faces”, as Ben once put it, all while working behind the Empire’s backs because of what the Empire was yet to do. What the Empire had already done as well.  
  
Everything that the Empire had done in the name of being seemingly “righteous”, when in fact they were anything but.  
  
So many images now danced across Leia’s mind. Images that seemed almost disconnected, in a way. Ten million Rebel ships on fire, people she cared most about dying. People, in the chambers of the Death Star, being tortured for information by one of those probe droids or those drugs that the Empire had invented if only to all but wrench the truth from them.  
  
And then she saw it. The Death Star, hovering almost like a too-large moon, over Alderaan, readying its laser, firing. The entire planet, going up in a ball of flame –  
  
\-- and it was then that Leia awoke if only abruptly, surveying her surroundings at last. She seemed to be in some sort of hut – a rather cozy hut as well, she thought. A little bit cramped, but at the same time, very much comfortable. Over in the corner, she heard C-3PO’s electronic sigh of contentment. “Thank the maker – this oil bath feels so good!”  
  
So whoever had taken them in had also stopped to take care of C-3PO and R2 as well. That was definitely a point in their favor, at the very least.  
  
It was then that Leia saw Ben over beside her. He seemed more than a little roughed up from the escape pod crash, but relatively all right. He grinned that familiar sort of Ben Organa grin – a sort of grin that was cocky and utterly sincere all in one. “Hey.”  
  
“Hey,” Leia said. “Are you all right?”  
  
“More than slightly sore,” Ben said, “But definitely all right.”  
  
“Thank goodness.” A new voice, a sort of casual sort of voice. “You were in pretty bad shape back there – I don’t want to think of what would have happened if we lost you.”  
  
Leia turned to look towards the source of the voice. It was a young woman, probably in her late teens, with red hair that fell down her shoulders, and pale but freckled skin. Her eyes were green and almost painfully expressive – there was a sort of fire in them that came, Leia thought, no doubt with being young.  
  
“Where are we?” Leia already knew in a sense where they were, but at the very least, it would be nice to know more.  
  
“You’re at my house,” the redheaded woman said. “My name’s Mara, by the way. Mara Lars. My friend, Luke…” She gestured towards a young man with sort of flaxen hair, no doubt bleached that way if only by the harsh Tatooine sun. “We found your escape pod crashed in the Dune Sea, and we thought that we’d come and rescue you. It’s really a good thing that you were all right – honestly, Luke and I thought you were almost lost…”  
  
So they had decided to come and rescue them. That was…brave of them. Leia couldn’t help but smile. Heavily risky, no doubt dangerous and probably even stupid, but…brave. She liked the two of them, she thought.  
  
Luke, meanwhile, looked almost completely bashful around Leia. “It’s really nice to meet you,” he said, and he reached out towards her. Leia shook his hand.  
  
“We also took some time to sort of clean up Threepio and Ar-Too over here,” Mara said. “There’s been a lot of carbon scoring and whatnot on them. I’m guessing they’ve seen a lot of action?”  
  
“Very much so, Mistress Mara,” Threepio said, “It’s amazing that we’re in that good condition, what with the battles with the Empire.”  
  
“Wait.” Luke, this time. “You know of the Rebellion against the Empire?”  
  
“We’ve been active participants,” Leia said. “It’s…it’s how we got here, really.” She took a deep breath. “We were on the way to Alderaan to deliver the Death Star plans…”  
  
“Wait.” Mara, this time. “Death Star plans? What do you mean? I mean,” she said, “I heard that the Empire was using that new superweapon, but I didn’t really know that you had the plans…”  
  
Leia grinned. “It’s been a guaranteed turning point in the battle against the Empire.” Then she grew more serious. “We’ve been on the losing side of the war for too long now. This is perhaps our last hope for a fighting chance. We were about to get back to Alderaan, but I think the Empire already suspected that we were up to something, and our ship was attacked. We barely escaped in time.”  
  
“Apparently,” Ben said, “They actually got wise to what we were planning. We were already worried that Darth Terminus thought that we were up to something – after all, the man isn’t one to let things like this past. He’s…” He bit his lip. “I think to say that he’s a very suspicious man is putting it mildly. He’s very much dedicated to protecting the Empire, no matter what the cost is.”  
  
Even Ben’s words were enough to bring back memories for Leia. Watching Terminus carry out the Emperor’s orders, watching him commit all these atrocities in the name of the Empire, all while trying if nothing else to keep herself from betraying no emotion. That was perhaps the worst part, or one of the worst parts, about everything – wanting to make a stand, wanting to say no, but knowing that if you did, you would all but blow your cover, and thus, you had to stay silent. To be a good little Senator, at least on the outside, and do what you were told. Her father had told her, really, that that was what both Padme (or as others on Tatooine knew her as, Lady Nemo, but her father knew better than that, and so did Leia, and Ben) and Sabe (or Elizabeth Nerus, as she now called herself if only to conceal herself from Terminus’ watch) wanted, but though Leia understood why perfectly, there was something in her that wanted to fight back against Terminus openly. Subterfuge wasn’t enough. She wanted to openly make a stand, to say no…but she had to stay silent, and work in the shadows.  
  
Still, it wasn’t as if she saw it as completely lacking in a point. It did have a point. The means she couldn’t say she was completely content with, but she saw the point.  
  
“Yeah,” Mara said, her voice jarring Leia out of her thoughts. “I think we all saw that well enough.” A beat. “So you’re saying that you need to get to Alderaan?”  
  
“Yes,” Leia said, “Also…” She bit her lip. “We’re going to need Lady Nemo and Elizabeth Nerus. I know that.”  
  
“Well,” Mara said, “We can always go down to Mos Eisley and get the necessary transport…”  
  
“Wait, wait.” Luke, this time. “It’s not that I don’t want to help them, Mara, but are you sure? I mean, our families still need us.”  
  
“I’m not saying run off,” Mara said, “Honestly, don’t be ridiculous. I mean…” She sighed. “You sound so much like Dad, I swear. We’re just going to get the necessary credits and then get them to the nearest transport, and they’ll be on their way. After they heal up, that is.”  
  
“It won’t be too much trouble,” Ben said. “I promise you.”  
  
Luke seemed deep in thought. “All right,” he said. “I guess I’m just…” He wiped his forehead. “I’m a little worried.”  
  
“There’s no need to be,” Ben said. “It will be well worth your while.”  
  
“That’s not really what I’m worried about,” Luke said. A beat. “I didn’t really get your name, by the way. What is it?”  
  
“Ben. Ben Organa.” A quick smile. “And it’s very nice to meet you.”  
  
***  
  
It was out on the homestead, looking out at the setting Tatooine suns once again that Mara had time to think. There was something about all of this, she thought, that was exciting and utterly terrifying at the same time. Terrifying, of course, because there was the matter of how others would react, how the Empire would react as well, when they saw that she was hiding no doubt wanted fugitives in her house. Traitors as well. To say that it wouldn’t be good would be an understatement. It wasn’t like she liked the Empire – there was really nothing about the Empire to like, to say the least. Or admire. They were nothing but monsters and killers, trying to squash dissent the best way they could, all out of some fear of “traitors” and “terrorists”, as they put it – but at the same time, she didn’t want Owen and Beru to suffer because of her. Or Luke. Or anyone around her.  
  
If they got hurt…  
  
Mara took a deep breath. Whatever happened, they were going to fix all this. No matter what.  
  
The big question, however, remained: could she join the Rebellion? Biggs had already gone off to join the Rebellion, and she would be lying if she said that she didn’t miss him. If nothing else, Biggs seemed to be her only other friend, always supportive of her and Luke, almost, she thought, like an older brother or something like that. His departure…it wasn’t like he’d died, but she still missed him terribly.  
  
It didn’t help that for all intents and purposes, he was a terrible pen pal. That or he didn’t have time, really, to tell them how he was doing, exactly. She just hoped that wherever he was, he was okay. She didn’t want to think of what would happen if it was otherwise.  
Could she join the Rebellion?  
  
Her family needed her. And yet at the same time, she wanted to at least go out and do something. She wanted to be able to do something about the Empire, besides the ordinary watching-it-on-the-Holonet-and-praying-for-a-miracle. The idea of just sitting back and letting it all happen…  
  
Beru had affectionately teased her a bit about wanting challenges. And she supposed that it was true. She could never truly be content with just staying on the farm and just waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the next escape pod to come crashing from the sky, so to speak.  
  
Mara turned back around and walked back inside. She could probably sleep on all of this. At least, hopefully, in the morning, everything would make at least some degree of sense.  
  
***  
The time was far too near, Padme thought.  
  
She almost wasn’t content with the idea – she wasn’t happy with the idea, to be more precise – of just sitting around and waiting for a miracle. It’s not like she wanted to, and besides, Qui-Gon had a point. She couldn’t just sit around and wait for a miracle. And yet there was something in her that told her to be patient. To wait. To not be hasty and rush into something that, for all intents and purposes, could end badly.  
  
And yet she wasn’t really the only person who was waiting. Everyone on Tatooine seemed to be waiting, really. For what, exactly? The next escape pod to crash into the desert? She supposed that she was almost like that. When she wasn’t being Sabe’s handmaiden, there was something in her that wondered what the stars would be like. Exploring them.  
  
It was mostly when one was older that they realized that adventure wasn’t really all it was cracked up to be, to say the least.  
  
She watched Mara even as she walked back inside the house. The way she looked – she was so much like Obi-Wan, Padme could not help but think. The hair. Even the sort of look in her eyes – there was more passion in her, more vibrancy than Obi-Wan, who was more peaceful (having Sabe’s vibrancy, more precisely) and yet there was something in her that reminded Padme so much of Obi-Wan that she couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang.  
  
Padme took a deep breath. The best she could do was not dwell too much on the past – even though if nothing else, where was the past, in the end? The past, present and the future seemed to coalesce into one open wound that still hadn’t quite healed. The wounds of all these senseless deaths, far from home or even in the seeming safety of home – or the future – never mind that Mara would have to accept her destiny, sooner or later. Ben already sort of had – but the present instead. But even the present seemed to be almost uncomfortably entwined with the future. Almost, Padme thought, as if one was staring over a precipice, wondering when to take the plunge.  
  
“Are you okay?” Sabe’s voice was soft.  
  
Padme turned to look at Sabe, smiled if only slightly. “I am,” she said. “I’m just…waiting.”  
  
“Waiting isn’t really like you,” Sabe said, “I mean, the Padme I knew…” She sighed. “She would have gone out and done things.”  
  
“Sometimes you have to wait.” It was something that she had never truly understood when she was still in the Jedi Order. She wanted to go out and do something, she wanted to go out and rescue people and protect people and help people and defend – the problem was that solely that didn’t seem to be the best course of action right now. They still had much to do. Training, for example. Padme was still working on her meditation techniques, all those things that she had never got to learn in the Jedi Order, back when it still existed. One thing that still stood out, at least for her, was the matter of what Qui-Gon had told her, if only about achieving “immortality”. At least, the Jedi definition of it. It was more of being a Force ghost, but even so…  
  
 _Plagueis and other Sith thought that they could live forever if only by manipulating the Force to their own means, but they were mistaken. The path to immortality is not manipulation or dominance, but instead, giving oneself completely to the Force. Forsaking all sense of self, and giving oneself to the greater Unifying Force. We are, in the end, part of the Force in ways large and small. It’s easy to forget that when you seek to manipulate it to your own ends, to make it…better, so to speak. But in giving up all sense of self and what you want, it’s then that you fully understand._  
  
Perhaps that was how Qui-Gon had achieved immortality, in the end. He had always given himself to the Force, served it loyally – perhaps even more loyally than any other Jedi that Padme had ever known. Even thinking about it still amazed Padme – after all that one thought that they did, they still hadn’t achieved much next to Qui-Gon. She had tried if only to emulate him in his actions – his compassion, his selflessness. She could not say that she succeeded always – after all, she was far from free of weakness, she knew that – but his influence was still very valuable.  
  
She doubted that Qui-Gon knew how much he had truly inspired her. She didn’t know if he ever would, really, or if he thought anything of it. Did he? Even now, she wasn’t sure.  
  
But that had been the Sith’s problem, in the end. In seeking to manipulate the Force for their own ends, to become immortal, to become more powerful, to become powerful enough to all but reshape the galaxy itself, they had forgotten what it meant to be selfless. One didn’t need to own the galaxy itself. One just needed to protect it, to serve it, to humbly live for serving it. That was enough. But they didn’t understand.  
  
None of them did.  
  
And Obi-Wan…  
  
Padme took a deep breath. She didn’t know if she could save Terminus – she hoped she could. More than anything, she wished that she could master flow-walking so she could go back and prevent the misery of Order 66, but she knew that that was hardly possible. No amount of flow-walking could truly turn back time – but at the very least, she could protect his two children. His two naïve, passionate, wonderful children.  
  
Yes, Padme thought, she could do that. 


	9. Family Troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Owen and Beru meet Ben, Leia, Artoo and Threepio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: This was another great chapter for me to write, if only because of fleshing out Owen and Beru, and some of the interactions between them, Ben, Leia, Artoo and Threepio. Also, the matter of sort of fleshing out the effects of the Empire -- shops closing, etc. And some of Owen's worries. Honestly, fleshing out Tatooine some more was one of the many reasons I enjoyed writing this.

To say that trying to break the news to both Owen and Beru was going to be difficult was no doubt an understatement, Mara thought if only wryly. It was long after Luke had gone home and C-3PO and Ar-Too were put away for the night that at the very least, Mara thought, she could think of how, exactly, to break the news to them. How she could really tell them, “Oh, by the way, Mom and Dad; Luke and I went on this adventure in the Dune Sea and we found two droids and two ambassadors that I think will need help getting back to their home planet. Is that okay?” Granted, Beru would probably be more forgiving than Owen – as Owen, nice as he generally was, could also worry too much, Mara thought. He really needed to stop worrying, really. She would have preferred it more than anything if she didn’t worry – but even so…  
  
It was at breakfast that Mara found room to break the news. It was a typical sort of breakfast – Beru was pouring the blue milk, and Mara was trying her best if only to eat the red grain cereal that Beru had laid out for her. Not that it was necessarily easy. There was something about that that always managed to taste like bantha droppings, really. Not that she had ever had bantha droppings, but she could ever assume that in the heavily unlikely circumstance that she would need to eat bantha droppings – which would no doubt be never – this was what it would taste like.  
  
All right, then again, it wasn’t the best of comparisons. But even so, it tasted really bad. Beru did the best she could, and Owen as well, but even so, Mara thought, it didn’t stop the red grain cereal from tasting like bantha poodoo.  
It was in the midst of it that she heard Owen’s faint curse. “Stang it – just stang it.”  
  
Mara raised her head from her breakfast. She was almost grateful for the distraction, really; at the very least, she could forget at least briefly about the matter of how-am-I-going-to-reveal-to-Dad-that-I-may-have-been-marginally-involved-in-some-sort-of-grand-Rebel-conspiracy-and-you-may-be-in-danger. She didn’t want to think about the Empire busting down their doors and arresting them. She didn’t want to even consider it. Owen and Beru, taken away someplace to no doubt be tortured or executed or –  
  
She hadn’t seen it for herself. But in the times that she, Luke, Biggs, Camie and the others had gone to Ackmena’s bar, she heard the occasional whisper of those who had no doubt faced the Empire, seen its horrors. Talking about the Empire’s cruelty, in their working their prisoners to death in special camps, arresting traitors, and so much more. Even the tales that they had shared in regards to Imperial cells and whatnot, special tortures on the Death Star, were enough to make Mara shiver and wonder who would do such a thing.  
 _The same sort of people who are nothing more than monsters._ Owen had told her a few times that sometimes, there were people with no reason for their actions, who were nothing more than monsters. Mara didn’t want to think of people like that – it was during those times when she spoke with him in regards to things such as this – and she didn’t want to think of what sort of mentalities they would have if only to think that what they were doing was somehow acceptable, when really, it wasn’t.  
  
Beru walked over towards the table in that moment. “What is it, Owen? What happened?”  
  
“One of the shops down there closed.” Owen rubbed his head even as he put down his holojournal. “Apparently the Empire decided to go and close it down. I swear that they’ve just been getting pettier and pettier lately.”  
  
Mara sighed. “What else is new?”  
  
“I know,” Owen said. “But it’s just ridiculous.”  
  
“They can’t have any jurisdiction to close down shops,” Mara said, “I mean…it makes no sense.”  
  
“Tell that to the Emperor.” Owen lifted up his holojournal. “It was one of the holonovel stores. Apparently it was shut down for selling ‘seditious material’. The Empire doesn’t exactly tolerate people saying bad things about them.”  
  
“Yeah. I think that goes without saying.” Mara sighed.  
  
Beru walked over towards Owen, placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s frustrating, Owen. I don’t blame you.” She sat next to him now, turned towards Mara. “Are you all right, Mara? You don’t seem to be eating.”  
  
“Well, basically…” Mara took a deep breath. “To make a long story short, I’m keeping two Rebel ambassadors in the house. And two Rebel droids.”  
  
Owen put down the holojournal abruptly with a sort of  _slam_. “Rebel ambassadors? And rebel droids? You…you’re not serious, are you?”  
  
“I’m completely serious,” Mara said, “I’m mostly taking care of them until they’re okay.” She sighed. “They kind of crashed on Tatooine and needed a place to stay.”  
  
Owen seemed to be taking several deep breaths. “Mara,” he said, “Sweetheart – I appreciate your kindness towards other people. I really do. But I’m just worried about it someday getting you hurt or killed. Or any of us, for that matter. This morning…that was a holonovel store. I don’t want to think about what’s going to happen if word gets out that there are Rebel ambassadors in this house.”  
  
“I don’t know either.” Ben’s voice now. The ambassador now emerged from Mara’s room, dressed and cleaned. For all intents and purposes, he and Leia seemed a little less beat-up, at the very least. That was good. That was definitely good.  
But from the way that Owen stared at him in disbelief, Mara thought, one would think that he was almost afraid.  
  
“It’s very good to meet you, by the way,” Ben said. “You must be Owen and Beru Lars.”  
  
Owen merely nodded. “We are,” he said. “How did you even get there?”  
  
Leia was completely calm, considering. “Our escape pod crashed,” she said, “And we had to land here.”  
  
“Ah. I see.” Owen still seemed almost baffled, almost as if wondering what would require them to end up in such a situation in the first place.  
  
Beru, meanwhile, was friendly per usual. “Can I get you anything to eat?”  
  
“That would be wonderful,” Ben said. “Thank you.”  
  
Two servings of red grain cereal later, and Mara could feel the discomfort all but streaming through the room. “Dad,” she said, “They need help. I need to get them back to their home planet, Alderaan. They were on a diplomatic mission, but they were attacked – ’’  
  
“We were wondering if there were any available spaceports,” Leia said, “So we could get home.”  
  
Owen took a deep breath. It was all too clear, Mara thought, that he was already all but panicking.  
  
“Mos Eisley is your best bet,” he said, “I mean…it’s a bunch of scumbags, but it’s your best bet. Just steer clear of Jabba and his goons. A lot of nutjobs reside in Mos Eisley, so…”  
  
“We figured that,” Leia said, “And we will be all right.”  
  
Owen then turned towards Mara. “Are you sure that you want to – ’’  
  
Mara sighed. “Dad,” she said, “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just going to be a short walk, I swear. No need to worry.”  
  
Owen rubbed his temples again. “Just be careful,” he said, “Like I said, there are a lot of nutjobs in Mos Eisley. And a lot in the known galaxy. You’re going to have to be careful.”  
  
Mara merely nodded. “I know,” she said, “I’ll be careful. We’ll be careful.”  
  
It was on the way back towards Mara’s bedroom that Ben turned to look towards Mara. “Is he always this overprotective?”  
  
“Yeah,” Mara said. “He does that.” She sighed. “He means well,” she said, “But sometimes I swear that he can be completely paranoid – ’’  
  
It was once they reached Mara’s bedroom that Mara’s blood suddenly froze. And for all she tried to tell herself to be calm, there was something in her that couldn’t help but panic.  
  
Threepio and Ar-Too were gone. 


	10. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara and co. finally meet Padme/Lady Nemo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: First off, we're finally getting the plot into gear! I loved the character moments, but it's nice to sort of get things moving too, really. Second, I really liked writing this chapter, if only because of the character moments (of course. Character moments are awesome. :) and the bit near the end when Padme/Lady Nemo reflects on fate and how they don't need to accept their fate. Sort of a call back in a way to Traya's speech in KOTOR II about one of many reasons she wants to destroy the Force (also known as one of the best parts in the game. And dear God, I just realized that I miss playing the KOTOR games a hell of a lot...) which, really, considering certain events in the EU and the original Star Wars films, I can't really disagree with. So I decided to add in that bit with Padme as a bit of catharsis. 
> 
> Also, in case you're wondering why her name's Lady Nemo -- well, Nemo is Latin for "no one". Considering that Padme's sort of the last of the Jedi and trying to hide from the Empire...well, I thought that name seemed appropriate.

Mara couldn’t say that there was much time to explain to Owen and Beru even as she headed out the door if only to find the runaway droids. She could only hope that even as they headed towards the Dune Sea – at least, following the trail of Threepio’s metallic footprints, it seemed to be the best approximation. Did it have to be the Dune Sea again, she couldn’t help but wonder. She knew it was probably the least of their worries at the moment, but she couldn’t help but think that. Even heading towards the Dune Sea with Ben and Leia, she drew out her binoculars. She had a feeling, at the very least, that she would need them if only to find them. And it was then that she saw them.  
  
Threepio was already laying by the wayside, a metallic leg missing, all while Ar-Too, badly battered, was fighting off…  
  
Sand People?  
  
Mara suppressed a groan. Just her luck that it happened to be Sand People. Just her kriffing luck.  
  
Still, there was no use turning back now. The Sand People – they were perhaps some of the most feared denizens of the Dune Sea. People who went up against Sand People didn’t typically live to tell the tale – and even when they came back, they were, to say the least, missing a limb or worse. Even hearing the horror stories about what the Sand People did to their captives was enough to frighten Mara.  
  
Mara took a deep breath, turned to Ben and Leia. “Do you have anything?” she said. She already had a blaster that she managed to yank before leaving the house – she had a feeling, at the very least, that she was going to need it. But she had to at least make sure that Ben and Leia were also all right.  
  
Ben nodded, drawing his own blaster, as well as a sack of grenades. Leia also nodded, drawing her blaster.  
  
“Let’s get going then,” Mara said. There probably wasn’t any use in terms of wasting time.  
  
They headed into the fray now. The Tusken Raider that was beating on Ar-Too now turned to look at Mara, Ben and Leia, seeming almost quizzical for a moment, before all but springing towards them.  
  
Mara almost wasn’t prepared for how strong the Tusken Raider was. If krayt dragons could spring through the air, she thought, this was probably what they would look like. And if they landed on your chest…well, she supposed, that was what they would feel like. Still, she fought as best she could, shooting at them, all while Ben and Leia provided the best support they could, mostly through grenades and whatnot. The Tuskens continued swarming out, beating relentlessly on the three of them. No matter how Mara, Ben and Leia fought them, they didn’t seem to stop.  
  
And it was then that she heard it.  
  
The eerie sort of howl of a krayt dragon.  
  
Mara looked up now, bleeding from where one of the Raiders had scratched her, towards the direction where the call originated. And she saw it. A woman, cloaked in red, calling towards the Tusken Raiders, warning them if nothing else to leave, all through the familiar howl of a krayt dragon.  
  
Considering how the Tusken Raiders scattered, Mara thought, it seemed to at least work, she thought.  
  
Still almost dizzy from the fight, Mara got to her feet, turned towards C-3PO, who was lying by the wayside. She knelt next to him, patching him up if only quickly, reattaching his leg. “Are you okay?” she said. “I mean…I was pretty scared.”  
  
“I’m perfectly all right.” C-3PO let out an electronic sigh. “It’s his fault, really; I tried to stop him, but he kept going on about ‘the mission’ and ‘Lady Nemo’. Quite absurd, really.”  
  
Ar-Too, though badly battered, let out a series of sarcastic beeps. Mara shook her head.  
  
“Look,” she said, “How about we all just get inside? We can argue later.”  
  
She turned towards the cloaked figure. “Thanks for saving us,” she said.  
  
The cloaked figure…somehow, Mara thought, there was something familiar about her. Almost, Mara thought, like she swore that she could have seen her before. But that wasn’t possible, was it? And yet even looking at her, Mara thought, she could have sworn…  
The cloaked figure’s voice was soft. “You’re welcome.” A pause. “You’d best get inside. The Sand People were just momentarily stopped. They’ll be back, and in greater numbers.”  
  
Mara nodded, turned towards Ben and Leia. “Come on,” she said, “Let’s go inside.”  
  
And they did.  
  
***  
She was here.  
  
Padme knew that this day would come, but she wasn’t prepared for the sudden pang that came up even looking at Mara’s face. The way that she reflected her father – she had her mother’s fire and determination, but her father…in terms of appearance, her face strongly resembled him. The only difference was the matter of her eyes – green, jade green, and painfully expressive. Obi-Wan’s eyes had been, in contrast, very much blue. But otherwise, her face, serious and determined and kind and open…that was definitely Obi-Wan, through and through.  
  
Even looking at her, Padme thought, it felt almost like seeing Obi-Wan again. And Ahsoka, for that matter – she had Ahsoka’s strength and determination and fire. At least, they reminded her too much of Ahsoka. Even remembering that…that also hurt. So many friends, gone…  
  
Padme took a deep breath, forced herself to look away, towards Ben instead. “It’s good to see you,” she said, “I mean…” She rubbed her forehead. “When I felt the attack on your ship, I assumed the worst.”  
  
“It’s going to take more than an attack from the Empire to take us down,” Ben said. “I mean…” A quick grin came across his face, an almost cocky grin, like his father’s. Padme was almost painfully reminded of her master’s more mischievous, cocky, playful side – his wry sense of humor, his certainty, his idealism. They had been some of the qualities that she couldn’t help but love. And even seeing them in Ben…  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t dead, but for all intents and purposes, he might as well have been, Padme thought if only bitterly. Because he wasn’t Obi-Wan Kenobi anymore. The Obi-Wan she knew had died on Sullust. Before Sullust, actually. The Obi-Wan left…  
  
The Obi-Wan Kenobi she had confronted on Sullust had been nothing more than an impostor wearing Obi-Wan’s face. And after Sullust, only Darth Terminus really remained. A ruthless man, doing whatever he could if only for some elusive “greater good”, some idea of perfection, if only because of Ahsoka’s death, if only because of his attachments…  
  
Attachment by itself wasn’t bad, Padme supposed. It was the fear that came with it, the fear of it being taken from you, the fear of change – something that a part of her was all too familiar with as the war steadily got worse – the fear of failure, the hatred towards the galaxy for seemingly “taking” it from you, as she could feel Obi-Wan steadily continuing to develop as the war only got worse…  
  
He had tried to fight the Force itself. There had been instances of people trying to fight the Force itself – the story of Darth Traya, for example, the woman who had tried to kill the Force itself. But one couldn’t fight the Force, in the end. No one truly could.  
Obi-Wan and others had tried, and not only had they paid the price, but others had as well.  
  
Padme took a deep breath, and entered the hut along with Ben and Mara. There, she would tell the both of them the truth, and then they would have a choice to accept their destiny. To become Jedi, like their father, and learn the ways of the Force. To defeat the Empire.  
And yet there was something in Padme that already couldn’t help but have her doubts. Could she ever train these people, these innocent, naïve people, to kill their own father?  
  
She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. No matter what Yoda said about it being the only way. It wasn’t as if she didn’t comprehend the idea of selflessness and the greater good. But this…this wasn’t selflessness, or the greater good. This was, purely and simply, disgusting.  
But what if there was no choice?  
  
Padme took a deep breath. She could still remember what Qui-Gon had said.  _Just remember, Padme; he could have simply left you to the Emperor at Sullust, but he didn’t. There is hope for him, even if it doesn’t seem that way._  
  
And he was right. He could have left her to the Emperor’s mercy, if only to be tortured or killed – considering what the Empire did to their prisoners, she supposed, in comparison (although even that didn’t really make it better, she thought if only darkly) that Terminus simply killing them was mercy. But he didn’t.  
  
There had to be a chance of saving him.  
  
After all, Padme thought, the Force couldn’t be simply controlling everything. They still had a choice, after all. They didn’t have to accept the fates that the Force had set up for them.  
  
And there was something about that, she thought, that was if only slightly heartening. 


	11. Reflections On The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padme and Sabe tell Mara about her father. Well, half the truth, at the very least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: This was actually a chapter that I kind of sort of struggled with, mostly in regards to if Padme should tell Mara everything, or do what Obi-Wan did in canon and tell...half the truth, shall we say. (And even that's a goddamn understatement. I'm sort of adjusting a bit more to Ben lying to Luke, but I'm not entirely happy with it. I mean, maybe it was kind of him trying to sort of cope with Vader's fall in his own way -- such as his comment about the good man that Anakin was being destroyed when he became Vader, and like a lot of good lies, there's a grain of truth in it; Anakin really did metaphorically die when he pledged himself to Sidious -- but still... Then again, I doubt Lucas really intended us to really agree with Ben. After all, it was really Luke showing compassion to Vader that saved the day in the end, not just killing Vader and the Emperor. A pretty damn good lesson, I think, and pretty damn awesome for the time)
> 
> I figured here that Padme would tell half the truth, really. Just to not break Mara's heart, even though it would no doubt break Mara's heart in the long run.
> 
> Also, yes, Sabe's alias is partially an Actor Allusion -- "Elizabeth" is the name of the character that Keira Knightley played in Pirates of the Carribbean. I haven't seen all the Pirates movies (I think I saw the first one at a friends' house), but they definitely sound fantastic. And Nerus...yeah, I took the name "Nerys" (think Kira Nerys in Deep Space Nine) and changed a vowel. Yeah, I know. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

There was something about Lady Nemo and Elizabeth Nerus’ house that was bizarrely cozy, Mara thought, even though there was a sort of lonely feel to it. All these old trophies lying around, no doubt testaments to what had happened in days past – back in the times before the Jedi. Mara had heard many things about the Jedi, from them being defenders of the peace to them being tyrants and monsters who kidnapped children from their homes and turned them into soldiers, and that Terminus was dispensing justice by storming their Temple and killing everyone in sight (even some instances where people said that he’d tried to get the Jedi to surrender first, and they’d just brought this on themselves by refusing to surrender), but she had never really heard the truth about them. The truth seemed to really be nothing more than just some sort of illusion, really. Even turning to look at Lady Nemo and Elizabeth Nerus, Mara wondered if she would ever truly know the truth about what had happened the night that the Empire was born.  
  
There was something about Lady Nemo, Mara thought, that was almost comforting, in a sense – she had a very kind face, and though she was now old, it was still beautiful. A sort of classic beauty frozen in time, dark hair falling in waves around her face, streaked with gray, and painfully expressive brown eyes. From the way they looked, Mara thought, it seemed almost as if she had been to the Corellian hells and back. Yet there was a sort of kindness in them, a kindness that, even in spite of herself, she found herself growing steadily more comfortable with.  
  
She couldn’t really describe it, but there was something about Lady Nemo’s presence that made Mara feel if only oddly at peace.  
  
Elizabeth Nerus had the same sort of feel – the gentle, kind, serious face, although there was more of a sense of fire to it. The way that her dark hair, now graying, fell down her back, contrasting with her red robes, almost reminded Mara of the sun goddess that Beru had told her stories about when she was just a small child. The woman who controlled the rising of the twin suns every morning. In a way, Mara thought, she seemed so very familiar. Almost, she thought, like the woman she had seen in her dreams.  
  
And more than that, it was a strange sense of belonging here, really. Almost as if it felt…right.  
  
“It really is good to see you.” Ben’s voice cut through after a long while. “Both of you. I can’t really say that it’s under the best of circumstances. After all…” He bit his lip. “We’re going to need to get home in time to deliver the Death Star plans. And,” he said, “I can only fear for the safety of our crew that had to be left behind when we ran to the escape pods.”  
  
“You did the right thing,” Lady Nemo said if only gently. “After all, if you hadn’t, the Death Star plans would have been in the hands of the Empire.”  
  
“That doesn’t necessarily make it any better.”  
  
It was then that Lady Nemo turned towards Padme. “I understand you’re probably very confused,” she said.  
  
Mara laughed. “More than a bit, really.” She then faltered. “Who are you? How does Ben know you, the both of you? And really…what do I have to do with any of this?”  
  
Lady Nemo took a deep breath. She looked, if nothing else, heavily burdened by what she was about to say. “We always knew that the day would come,” she said. “The question was whether or not you would be ready for it.” A beat. “The both of you, actually. Ben had already accepted his role, but we didn’t know about you.”  
  
Mara nodded. She was still confused, but at the very least, she was getting at least somewhere. “All right,” she said, “Please, explain it to me. Because I’m really confused.”  
  
“What did Owen and Beru tell you about your father?”  
  
That, Mara thought, she didn’t expect. “Well,” she said, “He was a navigator on a spice freighter. Died in some unfortunate accident, and so they had to raise me in his stead. Can’t say they told me what happened to my mother.”  
  
She could swear that there was a flash of sadness that came across Elizabeth Nerus’ face. Even looking at her, Mara felt almost uncomfortable – she looked so very haunted, so very sad, to the point that even looking at her made Mara wish she hadn’t said anything.  
Lady Nemo seemed almost baffled at that moment, but that disappeared as quickly as it came. “I told Owen and Beru to tell you the truth when you were older,” she said, “But…” She ran a hand across her temples, rubbing them if only blearily. “They didn’t, did they?”  
  
“No,” Mara said. Even now, she couldn’t help but be confused. “Also,” she said, “You’re not making sense. What do you mean ‘tell you the truth when you were older’?”  
  
“Your father wasn’t a navigator on a spice freighter,” Lady Nemo said. “He was a Jedi Master – my master.”  
  
Mara couldn’t help but laugh. “You…you’re kidding.”  _My dad, a Jedi?_ Even that didn’t make any sense.  
  
A faint, almost nostalgic smile came over Lady Nemo’s face. “Yes,” she said. “And he fought in the Clone Wars. We all did, in fact.” She grew more serious. “We lost many good people in the war,” she said. “People with their lives ahead of them, people with families, people with futures. There were people who tried to call off the war, to make it stop, but they weren’t listened to. And I think it might have been to their undoing. Because that…that was how the Empire got started.”  
  
Mara faltered in that moment, trying to picture it. The wars, breaking out, spreading across the galaxy, getting worse day after day after day. Felling multiple people who didn’t even need to die. She had heard, at least, in the texts of the Empire, the texts that recounted the matter of the Clone Wars, that it was a just war against the “traitors” attempting to break away from the Republic. Even picturing it, she couldn’t help but wonder – had the Empire started out with good intentions at first before becoming corrupt, or did they, pure and simply, just deceive everyone into thinking that they had good intentions?  
  
“And when the war was finally over,” Lady Nemo said, “It wasn’t, really. A young man known as Darth Terminus, grief-stricken from what had happened in the war including the loss of a dear friend of his, my own student, and desiring to restore some semblance of order, some semblance of sanity – he joined the Emperor if only to hunt down every Jedi that there ever was. Your father was one of his first victims, unfortunately.”  
  
Even as she said it, Mara thought, she seemed to have been pulling teeth. Almost as if she was forcibly extracting them. Mara couldn’t say that she blamed her. After all, the idea of your Master, someone close to you, being murdered by a man who seemed to somehow think that he was doing the right thing…  
  
Even thinking about it, Mara felt a sudden wave of nausea. “I…I need a moment,” she said. Even the inside of her mouth tasted like acid. “Just for a bit.”  
  
“The fresher’s that way.” Lady Nemo’s voice was gentle, soft. “Take as long as you need.”  
  
Mara smiled if only faintly. “Thanks.”  
  
She headed towards the fresher in that moment, allowing herself to vomit into it, emptying the contents of her stomach. Just the very idea of it, the very idea of Terminus doing this, all this, just because he thought that he had some semblance of order in mind…  
It was after a long while that Mara stood up, wiping her mouth, before realizing that there were tears falling from her eyes as well. She took a deep breath, trying if only vainly to steady herself.  _It’s going to be all right._ And yet at the same time, she couldn’t really believe it. Because her father –  
  
Why had Owen and Beru lied to her? To protect her somehow from Terminus? To protect her from being hurt somehow? She couldn’t even say, really. Not really. To protect her from the fact that her father had been murdered by some godsdamned madman?  
  
 _Just calm down. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay._  
  
She returned to the room now, where bits of conversation were drifting in. “…how can I even tell her, Sabe? I mean, how can she even live with that burden?”  
  
 _Sabe._ So that woman in the dreams…she was Elizabeth Nerus. No wonder Mara kept dreaming about her. It seemed that everything in that dream seemed designed to lead her up to this point.  
  
Learning that her father hadn’t died on a spice freighter, and that Owen and Beru had lied to her…for what reason? To coddle her? To protect her? Because they somehow wanted to erase her father entirely from their memories?  
  
 _No. They probably were just trying to protect you. Just calm down._ Mara took a few deep breaths now, forcing herself to be calm.  
  
Lady Nemo looked up at her now. “Are you all right?”  
  
“A bit better.” Mara sat down in her previous seat. “So you basically just called me out there to avenge my father’s death?”  
  
“No.” Lady Nemo said if only softly. “A Jedi doesn’t seek revenge. It was definitely how Terminus got started – one of many ways he was made into the man you know now.” A beat. “We wanted you to take on your father’s mantle when you were old enough. I have a feeling he would have wanted you to have this.”  
  
She and Elizabeth Nerus stood up. Lady Nemo then fished a box from the nearest shelf, handing it to Mara. Mara looked over it before opening it. Inside was a long, slim sort of handle, gleaming silver, almost simple, she thought, in terms of design. It was activating it that she nearly dropped it if only in shock – it was a good thing that the plasma blade didn’t necessarily hurt anyone by mistake. Still, there was something about it, even as she moved it around experimentally, that felt oddly right in her hands, almost as if it was made for her.  
  
Lady Nemo smiled. “You’re going to have to be careful,” she said, “I know that there have been cases of people who have accidentally damaged things,” and at this she became more serious, “Thanks to not being careful.”  
  
“Right.” Mara deactivated the lightsaber, hooked it to her belt. “Honestly,” she said, “This is all so strange to me.”  
  
“Understandable,” Lady Nemo said.  
  
“So,” Mara said, “You want me to basically go to Alderaan to fight the Empire? Full-time, not just as being an escort?”  
  
“It’s about time you went to Alderaan,” Lady Nemo said.  
  
“I mean, I want to,” Mara said. “I want to go out and do something about the Empire, but Mom and Dad need me, more than ever.” She sighed. “Harvest season’s coming up and that’s when they need me the most. The farm takes a lot of looking after. And I don’t know – running away just seems almost irresponsible.”  
  
It was then that Lady Nemo placed a hand on Mara’s shoulder. “Just do whatever you feel is right,” she said. “You’ll be ready in time. And I believe that Owen and Beru will see it as well.”  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she said. She took a deep breath. “I better get home and explain things to them first,” she said, “I mean, they’re probably panicking like crazy.”  
  
“Yes,” Lady Nemo said. “You probably should.”  
  
“Just one last question,” Mara said, “This is for…his benefit.” She gestured towards C-3PO. “He’s…well, he’s more than a bit confused about the matter of Ar-Too’s mission. Can you help him?”  
  
The way that Lady Nemo looked, it was almost sad and yet…somehow happy at the same time. Almost as if she had found an old friend. And there was something in Mara that couldn’t help but wonder how she could possibly be that lonely, and what had happened to her – she already had a feeling that the matter of Terminus was just a sample of the story. And yet even thinking about it was enough to make Mara’s heart hurt. None of this should have happened. No one should have had to suffer what the Empire had put them through. The Empire should have never come to power. Mara already knew that the Empire was a pack, to say the least, of complete and utter bastards worth less than the slime under a Hutt’s tail. She hadn’t expected something like this.  
  
Lady Nemo took a deep breath. “Well,” she said, “The Rebellion’s been losing the war for quite a while now. For all we’ve fought, the Empire is stronger – their fleet, for example, is more equipped than ours, and they have some of the most powerful fighters on their side. Add in their newest weapon, the Death Star, and realistically, we have no chance against them. I can only pray that the Death Star plans give us that chance should we reach Alderaan.”  
  
“I certainly hope so too, Lady Nemo,” C-3PO said.  
  
And Mara, even listening, couldn’t disagree. 


	12. Talking Fairytales In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the meeting between Terminus, Ventress, Vader and the Moffs goes wrong, and Vader and Terminus have a little talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: So, this was another chapter that I sort of wrote when I was feeling more than a bit angry/sad. I think this NaNo in general was sort of good for venting my feelings of anger and sadness -- didn't help that this year was just rough, really. Some bright points in it, but yeah...it was more of a rollercoaster ride than I really wanted it to be. 
> 
> Also, sort of drew on Terminus' dislike of politics for this here -- I think even when Obi-Wan's the servant of the Emperor, he would still absolutely loathe politics. At least, he wouldn't be terribly fond of them. And Vader -- I think here, Vader's definitely more of his Morality Pet than anything else; the one thing keeping him sane. Which isn't exactly something that a Sith should have, but Vader, Terminus and Ventress...well, they're not typical Sith, really. 
> 
> And I admit there were actually some parts of the chapter that really did hurt to write -- outlining the full extent of Terminus' injuries, for example. I don't know; I guess there's something about that that's just pure Nightmare Fuel. And it's one of many reasons I wasn't comfortable with the Mustafar scene in canon when I first read it; the very idea of what happens to Vader is just pure Nightmare Fuel. Yes, Vader definitely committed horrible crimes, but he didn't deserve that. So yeah, recreating that for Terminus was enough to scare the living shit out of me in some parts. But I really liked fleshing out the matter of the Empire and how it worked, including Motti and Tagge sort of distrusting Terminus to say the least -- sort of based off a scene in the radio drama where Motti tries to get Tagge to overthrow the Emperor, but only sort of. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy. (Also, I'm sorry if I got Tarkin, Motti and Tagge wrong)

If there was something that didn’t seem to change in the slightest, Darth Terminus thought if only bitterly, it was the politics.  
  
He had never really had much patience for politics when he was back in the Republic, when he had been serving the Jedi Order, the side of good – or at least that was what they wanted to think of themselves as, really, he thought if only darkly. If nothing else, they had started out good, good and righteous, but by the time the war had drawn to a close, they had become corrupt, all too willing to do whatever they could if only to stop the Separatists and the Sith threat alike, even assassinate the Chancellor. Even commit torture. Even step over the lines that they had set for themselves. They were willing to do anything if only to win this war, and it was the same for the Republic, for that matter. Except at least the Jedi, for all their faults, had good intentions at heart. The Republic, however…  
  
The Republic had always argued. Obi-Wan knew that, more than anything else. They loved to argue, they loved to squabble over power and whatnot like rancors or kath hounds over a piece of raw meat. It had been one of those things that he had hated about politicians, he thought darkly – they didn’t care about the people. They were nothing but greedy, power-hungry monsters, and for all Sidious’ crimes, Terminus thought, he was still better than the Republic ever was.  
  
Sabe liked to say that for all the Republic had decayed, its morals still remained. But Terminus knew more than anything that that was a lie. Because even their morals seemed to have decayed. War made monsters of everyone no matter who they were. He supposed that the Republic was no exception.  
  
The only ones who didn’t seem to do so were Bail Organa, Fang Zhar, Sabe Amidala, and the late Satine Kryze. Even remembering them, there was something in Terminus that didn’t seize up – after all, his body was all but mechanically regulated now – but his breathing grew short if only for a moment. It was reaching further into the Force, focusing more on the rage, really – after all, Sith Lords could not afford to feel pain. Rage was what drove them. Rage, power, passion. Things such as pain and love only weakened them. It was almost strange, though not surprising, that in a way, the Jedi and the Sith were dark mirrors of one another. – everything that he hated, that he was at least able to somewhat center himself once again. And fortunately, there was something in the next room that at least justified his rage.  
Admiral Motti. And Commander Tagge.  
  
Terminus’ fists clenched at his side. If he had it his way, he thought, he wouldn’t even have the two of them there. They were just like everyone else that the Emperor hired. He couldn’t say who was worse, Motti with his smugness and his sliminess, or Tagge and his constant distrust of Terminus, Vader and Ventress, almost as if believing them to be sorcerers. At least Tagge seemed to have some degree of devotion to the Empire, Terminus thought, but that didn’t exactly make it better.  
  
“…and I tell you,” Tagge was saying, “The Sith Lord – this  _beast_  sent by Palpatine – he’ll be our undoing.  You’ve heard the stories about this man – what he’s capable of. You’ve heard what he can do, what he’s done. Who knows how long it takes before he betrays us?”  
A snort from Motti. “You really fear the Sith Lord and his sorcerer’s ways?”  
  
“Not without reason.”  
  
Irritation spiked in Terminus again. Did these men really think that he was a sorcerer? That he should be feared, or, in Motti’s case, him being a complete and utter imbecile, be ignored? Did they really think –  
  
Still, he thought, it was best to keep calm. He could confront them about this later. For now, he thought, he needed to report on the interrogation of the  _Tantive IV_  crew.  
  
Even thinking about it, he couldn’t help but shiver. He hadn’t wanted to do this – to use things such as the probe droids, and the chemicals, and so many other instances – but in the end, what choice did he really have? The crew of the  _Tantive IV_ were stubborn, almost admirably so, Terminus couldn’t help but think. They were supposed to fight the Rebellion, not praise them, and yet there was something in Terminus that could not help but praise them.  
  
What a warped and strange position to be in, really.  
  
He entered the room with Vader and Ventress, and Tagge and Motti’s conversation stopped immediately. They looked up at him, seeming, if nothing else, fearful of what news he was going to bring. Tarkin followed him shortly after, and their fear seemed to grow into a sort of anxiety. They turned to look towards Tarkin, bowing to him even as the tall, gaunt, severe-faced man sat at the table. The way that Tarkin seemed to look at them, almost like a vulture surveying its prey, was enough to make even Terminus feel almost cold. Vader sat beside Terminus now, along with Ventress, and he couldn’t help but sense Vader’s restlessness and almost unease. He knew that more than anything, Vader didn’t seem to be entirely happy in regards to the incident with the crew of the  _Tantive IV._  
  
That was Vader’s problem, Terminus supposed. He supposed that he could at least admire the young Sith’s idealism, but there was no room for idealism in the Sith. The life of a Sith was, if nothing else, a trying business. One couldn’t love, one couldn’t feel anything more than rage, desire for power, hatred, and so much more. One couldn’t show mercy. For all intents and purposes, it was the same with the Sith as it ever was with the Jedi – either way, Terminus thought, your hands were chained. And Vader…the younger man didn’t seem to comprehend it. Ventress, meanwhile, seemed too devoted to the cause – too devoted for her own good, Terminus thought. He could only pray that it wouldn’t be her undoing. He couldn’t bear to think of it being her undoing – to really notice what was happening. And Terminus did what he had always done as Obi-Wan Kenobi – he went through the job, pretending to not care, serving the cause and simply doing what he was told because what else could he do but his duty?  
  
“What news of the interrogation of the crew of the  _Tantive IV_?” Tarkin, this time.  
  
“The interrogation was unsuccessful,” Terminus said, “No matter how we attempted to extract the necessary information about the location of the Rebel base and the Death Star plans, they refused to talk. They put up…quite an admirable resistance. A lesser being would have no doubt fallen apart immediately.”  
  
Even saying it, however, he felt something akin to a pang of doubt. All of this – was this really worth it? He could still remember Padme’s terrified reaction to Mace’s interrogation of Cad Bane (not that it had been unjustified, her reaction. After all, the Jedi were supposed to be keepers of the peace, those with respect for all life. They weren’t supposed to torture another being, no matter what their crimes. It was one of those instances where, no matter how Terminus regretted killing the Jedi in the Temple, he didn’t regret turning his back on them. It had been one of those factors that allowed Terminus to, if nothing else, turn his back on the Jedi without even bothering to reconsider) and he couldn’t help but wonder, really, if that was what was happening to them now. If he had swapped out one corrupt government for another, one set of we-will-win-no-matter-what-the-costs for another. It had been one of those thoughts that could not help but torment him in the night after every subjugation of a species, after every killing of a traitor or a Jedi that had managed to escape the initial massacre at the Temple. It had been one of those thoughts that kept him awake at night, when he wasn’t having nightmares about the matter of the Temple in flames, and the Jedi falling to his blade. The younglings, being so very expectant that General Kenobi would come to save them…  
  
What he was feeling must have been all too obvious in the Force, because Vader turned to look at him with concern. Of course he wouldn’t understand, Terminus thought. He was a naïve thing, and completely unaware of what was really happening – for all intents and purposes, he was very much a child in a man’s body, unable to really understand the horror of what was happening, believing that if nothing else, they were going to put everything right – almost, Terminus thought, like a hero out of a fairytale.  
  
It was an odd way to describe one of the Sith, but if nothing else, it was the truth. The way that Vader seemed to regard things, making them right, making the galaxy better…for all intents and purposes, Vader seemed to belong in a fairytale, a story that parents would tell to their children late at night, a story that ended “ _…and they all lived happily ever after._ ” Terminus knew full well that that would never truly be the case for him. Whatever innocence he had had, back when he had been Qui-Gon’s Padawan, he had lost, and he doubted that he would ever get it back.  
  
It seemed almost impossible, at the very least.  
  
And what did it matter, really, what could have been? He was here, he was now, he was working if only for a better world – there wasn’t really any room to focus on what could have been. He didn’t have time for this.  
  
And yet he couldn’t help but wonder, really, what if? What could have been if not for everything that had happened? If Qui-Gon hadn’t died, if Sidious hadn’t manipulated everything, if Ahsoka hadn’t died, if –  
  
Terminus supposed that he should be grateful for his time in the Jedi Order. Otherwise, he thought, he doubted that he would be able to keep his control.  
  
“But the plans that you want,” Terminus said, “The plans that we need, will be back in our hands. I promise you that.”  
  
“Indeed?” Motti’s voice was disdainful. “Will your sorcerer’s clairvoyance allow you to find those plans? Will your mystical powers manage to conjure up the Death Star plans and – ’’  
  
Terminus couldn’t say that he knew exactly what he was doing, except now, almost in spite of himself, he had reached through the Force and grabbed Motti by the throat. He couldn’t even describe what had come over him in that moment, but a sort of righteous fury, a desire to somehow punish Motti, to vent his anger, to teach him a lesson. Even as the Admiral writhed in his grip, trying vainly to wrench the invisible hands away from his throat, Terminus was completely calm. For all intents and purposes, he was an all-seeing eye, looking down at the scene. “I find your lack of faith,” Terminus said, “Disturbing.”  
  
“Enough of this!” By the time that Tarkin had intervened, Motti was practically turning blue. “Terminus, release him!”  
  
And there was something about Tarkin’s voice that jarred him back to the present. To what he was doing. To the fact that he was strangling an Imperial officer. “As you wish,” he said, and he released Motti, although there was something in him that could not help but be frightened by what he had just done. He was all too familiar with using that technique on his enemies – after all, that was only given all things considered. But using it on an ally, of sorts…  
  
 _What am I even doing?_  
  
And the way that Vader and Ventress looked at him, he could only assume that they were thinking the same thing. Although there seemed to be a sort of seething fury mixed in as well, almost as if if Terminus hadn’t done it first, they would have attacked Motti, and gladly. After all, no one truly doubted the Force. They could try – and the fact that the Emperor had all but outlawed being a Force user, more specifically, being a Jedi, no doubt contributed to the matter of some viewpoints, such as Motti’s, about the Force having no place in this galaxy – but in the end, they could never truly do it. That would be the Emperor’s downfall, in time. At least, Terminus only hoped. The Emperor had proven himself unworthy to lead through his actions. He had started out stable at first, or relatively so, but over time, he had only become madder, more unsteady, and more of a ruler in the lines of Freedon Nadd and King Rash than anything else. He wasn’t even worthy of the title of Emperor.  
  
“This bickering is pointless!” Tarkin said. “Lord Terminus, Lord Vader, and Lady Ventress will extract the location of the Rebel base as well as the Ambassadors Organa and the location of the Death Star plans by the time this battlestation is operational.”  
  
“What of the dissolution of the Imperial Senate?” General Tagge, this time.  
  
“There’s no need for them,” Tarkin said. “Fear will keep the populace in line. Fear of this battle station. And when we crush the Rebellion once and for all, they will understand truly why we’ve always won.”  
  
 _Perhaps you will,_ Terminus thought darkly,  _Or perhaps the Rebellion will crush you first._  
  
It was long after the meeting finally ended and they were leaving that Vader turned towards Terminus, utter concern in his face. “Are you all right? I mean, I thought…”  
  
“I thought that anger was a required trait for most Sith,” Terminus said, if only wryly.  
  
Vader took a deep breath. “Would you stop joking? I was being serious.”  
  
“Right. I’m sorry.” Terminus sighed. “I suppose I went too far in that meeting. It was…it was a good thing that Tarkin intervened, I assume.”  
  
“You shouldn’t let ignorant comments like that wind you up like that.” Vader’s voice was gentle. “I mean…” He took a deep breath. “You’re brilliant. You’re a genius. You really are. As far as I know, Motti’s just…mediocre.”  
  
“Quite the accurate word for him.” Terminus’ breathing was at least becoming more regular. He wished, almost, that he hadn’t lashed out like that. He supposed that he had Tarkin to thank, if only grudgingly, for rescuing him. He doubted he would ever think about Tarkin somehow being a rescuer, and yet, at the same time…here he was.  
  
“I don’t understand what the Emperor sees in the two of them.” Ventress’ voice was soft, bitter, with a hint of sarcasm behind it. “I can’t believe that they’re in charge of what’s supposed to be the most important weapon in the entire Empire either.”  
  
Vader merely nodded. “I can’t disagree,” he said. He turned towards Terminus. “Honestly, I can’t help but wonder – why don’t you fight back against him? Take the throne for yourself? I mean…”  
  
 _There he goes, talking fairytales again._ “I want to,” Terminus said, “But I can’t. You know too well how…limited I really am.” For all intents and purposes, though he didn’t want to acknowledge it, his Force powers were severely diminished now that Padme had wounded him, as well as the metal replacements that now served as his limbs. Technology and the Force simply did not mix. In a way, as a shadow of his former self, he doubted that he could stand up to the Emperor, a man who could shoot lightning from his hands, a man who, for all intents and purposes, was the Dark Side personified. Terminus was not afraid, but he was not a fool either. For all intents and purposes, he was a slave.  
  
“Don’t talk like that. Please.” Vader’s voice was soft. “You’ve always been brilliant, Terminus. Brave, wise, powerful – you’ve always been worthy. You’ve been willing to stand up where others would just turn and run away. You’ve never given up. Just…” He took a deep breath. “You are  _not_  limited.”  
  
And despite himself, there was something in Terminus that could not help but feel a sudden warmth at Vader and what he said. “Thank you,” Terminus said, and even speaking felt almost difficult. “Thank you.”  
  
Perhaps he could overthrow the Emperor. It would take a long series of planning, a long series of making sure everything fell into place, but he had done things like this before. He couldn’t afford to lose hope again. To be weak.  
  
He would find a way to overthrow Palpatine. And from there…from there, perhaps, things would be right again. 


	13. What Is Wrong And What Is Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara heads back to the homestead to save Owen and Beru, and a series of unexpected events happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: First off, I'd like to apologize for the lateness of the update; let's say I had Internet troubles. Second off, this was a pretty interesting chapter to write, what with the plot developments that just unexpectedly happened. I know it was a pretty memorable moment of NaNo. Also, went to Wookieepedia for some background information on the troopers that invaded the homestead, just for reference -- also because it's really interesting. I think that's one of many reasons I like the EU; they come up with backstories and character development that even the movies wouldn't have thought of.

It was heading back to the homestead that Mara saw the bodies of the Jawas. Even looking over them, looking over the scattered bodies, over the bantha tracks that surrounded them, over the marks of gaffi sticks and whatnot, Mara couldn’t help but wonder what the Sand People would really want with the Jawas. What would they have to gain from slaughtering the Jawas? After all, the Jawas hadn’t really done anything to them, really. Not at all.  
  
She turned towards Lady Nemo. “Why would they even do this?”  
  
Lady Nemo, meanwhile, seemed deep in thought, looking over the bodies of the Jawas. She knelt beside one of them, closing its eyes, before turning towards Mara. “This isn’t the work of the Sand People, I know that.”  
  
“But the gaffi sticks, the bantha tracks – ’’  
  
“That is true. At least from a surface standpoint.” Lady Nemo took a deep breath. “But I think it’s more dangerous than that. I doubt that Sand People ever hunt in groups, after all.”  
  
“Yeah. That’s true.” Sand People never really attacked all at once. They typically rode single file, no doubt to hide how many of them there were. One would be more caught off-guard that way. “Wait a second…” Mara squinted at the sand crawler. “That’s…that’s carbon scoring, isn’t it?”  
  
Lady Nemo merely nodded. “Yes. And unless the stormtroopers and the Sand People somehow formed an alliance, I can only assume that the stormtroopers decided to pin the murders on the Sand People. They’re the easiest scapegoats, after all.”  
  
“Yeah.” Mara bit her lip. If nothing else, Lady Nemo was telling the truth; the Sand People were typically hated and feared by a lot of the Tatooine population. As Owen had told her once, “They walk like men, but they’re brutal, savage animals.” It had been almost unsettling, she thought, hearing it from someone she had looked up to. The Sand People were ruthless, there was no doubt about it, but there was something about the look in Owen’s eyes…  
  
She took a deep breath. “What would the stormtroopers want with the Jawas anyway? I mean…they’re harmless. Unless they thought that they were selling the droids or something…” She rubbed her forehead. “Oh gods no…”  
  
“What is it?” Leia, this time. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“I think I know where they’re going,” Mara said. “I mean…it’s likely that they’re going to tear apart all of Tatooine until they find the droids. And you two.” She rubbed her head again. “I’ve got to get home.”  
  
“You’ll be killed!” Elizabeth Nerus, this time.  
  
Mara turned to look at her. “Stop worrying. I’m going to be all right. You’ll see.”  
  
“We’re going with you,” Leia said. “Just to back you up.”  
  
“You don’t have to,” Mara said.  
  
“But we do,” Leia said, “Because there’s no chance that you’re fighting the stormtroopers on your own.” She turned towards Lady Nemo and Elizabeth Nerus. “Look after Ar-Too and Threepio, all right? For me?”  
  
Elizabeth Nerus merely nodded, though there was a look of utter anguish in her face, almost as if she feared for Mara coming out alive. But really, Mara thought, what could possibly go wrong? She was going to be fine. She was going to save Owen and Beru, and things would be all right.  
  
Mara walked over towards the landspeeder, Leia and Ben getting in after she did. Then she started it up. So help her, she was going to get home, and she was going to save her family, no matter what.  
  
And as the landspeeder sped across the desert wastelands of Tatooine, even that possibility seemed all too easy.  
  
***  
  
After all these years, Owen Lars doubted that he ever stopped worrying about Mara. Ever since Lady Nemo had dropped off Mara at their doorstep, he hadn’t really stopped worrying about her, from when she had first learned to walk and talk to…now, really. Even watching her grow up, even seeing her resemble her parents more and more, what with her father’s kindness and insight and her mother’s fire and loyalty, there was something about him that had never truly stopped worrying about his little girl. She wasn’t his little girl by blood, but for all intents and purposes, one didn’t have to be related by blood in order to be family. And even as he helped Beru make lunch, there was something in him that, despite the fact that his daughter was old enough to take care of herself (as Beru had told him time and time again), couldn’t help but fear for her safety. After all, there was a lot of danger in the Jundland Wastes, in the Dune Sea, and whatnot. Tatooine was far from the safest place in the galaxy; if nothing else, it seemed to be where the psychos seemed to gather. One of many places the psychos seemed to gather, at the very least. He could still remember the Festival of the Dead, and what had nearly happened –  
  
\-- and even that thought was enough to make him shiver.  
  
“Owen,” Beru said if only softly, “Are you all right?”  
  
“Yeah. I’m good.” Owen took a deep breath. “I’m just worried about Mara.”  
  
“I understand.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be all right, Owen. She’ll come back soon.”  
  
“I certainly hope so.” Owen had heard too many stories about people who had ventured into the Dune Sea and never came home. He didn’t want Mara to be part of one of those stories.  
  
There was a long silence even as they continued preparing breakfast for the day. Then, “Do you think it’s time to let her go, Beru? I mean…I know she’s not a kid anymore, but I promised Lady Nemo that I’d keep her safe.” He snorted. “Not that I really agree with her on everything, but still…” He could still remember Lady Nemo trying to persuade him to have Mara trained as a Jedi, only for him to brush her off. _“She’s a godsdamned kid! I’m not having what happened to her dad happen to her!”_  
  
But was it time to let her go? It was a question that had plagued him time and time again. He couldn’t keep her around forever, but at the same time…  
  
“You’re going to have to let her go eventually, Owen. I mean…” Beru laughed if only softly. “She has too much of both her parents in her. I doubt she’d ever be happy living this life.”  
  
“I know.” That, Owen supposed, he would have no choice but to face.  
  
“Just one more season,” Beru said if only softly. “One more season, and you’ll let her go.”  
  
Owen took a deep breath. “All right,” he said, “But…” He sighed. “It’s not going to be easy.”  
  
“If it’s any comfort,” Beru said if only gently, placing a hand on Owen’s shoulder, “Nothing ever is.”  
  
It was then that Owen heard the heavy thud of dewback footsteps. He then looked outside the homestead, only to see –  
  
“Beru,” he said, “We’ve got to run. They’re here. Just…pack your things, get out of there. We need to run.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Beru’s brows were furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”  
  
And then she looked outside the homestead, and it was then that comprehension came across her face. And more than that, fear. She knew full well what the stormtroopers were capable of. She had heard enough news reports to know what they were capable of. She headed towards her room now, packing up her things. Owen followed, packing up his things as well as Mara’s – they would need to run, more than anything else. The question was where they would seek shelter. There was the matter of the Rebel Alliance, perhaps. Or one of those neutral planets that didn’t have anything to do with the Empire, although to say “good luck with that” would probably be an understatement. But he would do just about anything if only to keep Mara safe, and Beru.  
  
It was long after Beru packed her things that Owen turned to look at her. “Come on,” he said, “Let’s go.”  
  
But they barely even made a few steps out before they were stopped by the stormtroopers’ blasters pointed in their faces. “Stay where you are,” Captain Mod Terrik said. Already, Owen knew that man’s reputation. The man who had a reputation for plowing down just about anyone who got in his way. A man who was so dedicated to the Empire that he didn’t care who he had to kill if only to achieve his goals. To say that the fact that they were in this man’s custody was bad was putting it mildly – he couldn’t imagine what would happen to the both of them, to Mara, for that matter. He could only hope that she was safe.  
  
“You’re going to be all right,” he said to Beru. “We both will.” He took a deep breath. “And no matter what happens, they won’t find Mara.”  
  
***  
If one was to be truthful, Terminus thought, the matter of finding the Death Star plans and the ambassadors was mostly subterfuge at this point. He wanted to at least find the ambassadors, really, if only to keep them from further interfering, but really, what startled him was the matter of what he had felt in the Force even as he had approached Tatooine. A bright, shining sort of presence, a presence that could only really belong to someone very strong in the Force. And then there was the matter of what Owen had said to his wife, Beru – “And no matter what happens, they won’t find Mara.”  
  
 _Mara._ Could that be the presence that he had felt? _No. It couldn’t be possible. It could just be someone else entirely._ But he had felt it, on Tatooine, on that very homestead –  
  
It had to be her. It had to be. Already, Terminus’ heart wasn’t quickening – it was machine-regulated, it couldn’t do that – but he felt a sort of anticipation that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Mara. That was the name he had considered for their child so long ago. Their little girl. Something that he had discussed with Sabe when no matter how bad the war got, they had each other. Now, he didn’t have her. He had Vader and Ventress, and he supposed that was a perverse sort of comfort, two companions that he could have in this twisted, bizarre new world that he had found himself in, but the fact that Sabe wasn’t even so much as here…  
  
He didn’t have his family. He had lost his family long ago.  
  
And yet there was something in him that couldn’t help but wonder, really, if finding Mara again, if it was possible to have everything be right again. If he could find Sabe and Padme again. Because they could change their names, but they couldn’t change who they were, fundamentally. He could still feel the both of them in the Force. For all they tried to hide from him, to use assumed names, he always knew who they were.  
  
He hadn’t gone after them if only because, even after all this time, he didn’t want to kill them. Granted, he didn’t want to kill anyone, in the end, but they…he couldn’t kill them, most of all.  
  
Perhaps Mara, in a sense, this Mara Lars – perhaps in a sense she was the key to making everything right again. Even if she wasn’t his daughter, she could help him overthrow Sidious along with Vader and Ventress. And if she was indeed his daughter…  
  
Terminus felt something deep in him that he hadn’t felt in a while. Something that Master Yoda and Darth Sidious both had dismissed as being as futile as despair or mercy, respectively – hope. It was an almost frightening sort of feeling, and yet wonderful. Because with Mara with him, with his daughter back with him, perhaps he could put everything right again.  
  
***  
They’d managed to reach the moisture farm in time. Thank the suns. Mara got out if only in time to see the two of them surrounded by stormtroopers and, to Mara’s dismay, Darth Terminus, along with Darth Vader and Asajj Ventress. If Darth Terminus had decided to show up as well as perhaps two of the Empire’s most feared Sith and Dark Jedi, they were very much doomed, weren’t they?  
  
Mara turned towards Ben and Leia. “I’ve got to save them,” she said.  
  
“You’ll be killed,” Ben said.  
  
“I know,” Mara said, “But I’m not going to let them die like this.” She took a deep breath now, walked towards the stormtroopers.  
  
It was then that Terminus turned to look at her, his head tilting almost, Mara thought, like a dog’s. The way that he looked at her – it was almost like, impossibly, he knew her. But he couldn’t possibly know her. It wasn’t…right. There was no way that he could know her, or her him.  
  
And yet, if her dreams were any indication…but they couldn’t possibly have to do with Terminus, could they? He couldn’t possibly be the man from her nightmares.  
  
And more than that, if she wasn’t mistaken, Terminus’ breathing seemed to be getting all the shorter, all the heavier. The way that he looked at her – Mara couldn’t read his expression behind those black, mechanical things that passed for eyes in regards to his face, but it was undeniable, really, that somehow, he knew her. His gaze seemed to stare right through her to the point that despite herself, she couldn’t help but feel chills go down her spine.  
  
Still, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to steel. “Right,” she said, “I don’t want this to come to blows. But I swear, if you don’t get away from my family, I’m afraid that I’m going to have no choice but to use this.”  
  
She drew her lightsaber – her father’s lightsaber, more precisely, but in a way, she supposed, it was hers now. She could only pray that she would be as brave as her father ever was. She could practically hear Owen’s breath hitch, and looking behind her, she could see the anxiety present in Elizabeth Nerus’ eyes. Lady Nemo, on the other hand, seemed to have the utmost faith in her. She supposed that it would be touching if, on the inside, she wasn’t terrified.  
  
Terminus, meanwhile, seemed to tilt his head again, looking over the sight of Mara carrying that lightsaber. He seemed to have seen _that_ before as well. _Of course he did,_ Mara told herself. _He killed your father. If he could have, he probably would have added his lightsaber as a trophy to his collection of lightsabers he took off the Jedi he killed. Assuming he has one, of course._ Considering Terminus, it probably wouldn’t be much of a stretch.  
  
“Then I’m afraid that I’m going to have no choice as well,” Terminus said. He drew his lightsaber and ignited it – red, almost like the Tatooine sun when it was first coming up, shedding its light over the desert planet, heralding the dawn of a new day. Mara ignited hers as well. And behind her, she heard the ignition of another lightsaber – as she turned around, she saw that it was Lady Nemo’s.  
  
Terminus looked now past Mara towards Lady Nemo. “Padme,” he said, “I should have known that we would meet again. You can change your name all you like, but you can’t change who you are.”  
  
“You won’t hurt Mara.” Lady Nemo’s voice seemed to have gone from its usual calm to a fierce sort of determination.  
  
“I’m not here to hurt her,” Terminus said. He looked from Lady Nemo to Mara, again with that sort of look, Mara thought, as if he knew her. Of course he would have known her – if he had been close to her father before he had killed him…  
  
Even thinking about it, trying to puzzle out the possibilities, was almost too painful for Mara, and she found herself closing her eyes almost in spite of herself. She forced herself to take a deep breath. _Don’t let him affect you. Just concentrate. Fight back however you can._  
  
Terminus continued, and the way he sounded, there was something sad in his voice, or at least as sad as it could get considering how mechanical it really was. “I’m here to reclaim what should have been mine a long time ago.”  
  
Mara tensed. If Terminus was here to “reclaim” the droids, then by the twin suns themselves, he wasn’t going to get what he wanted. She was going to fight back whatever it took.  
  
“Ben, Leia,” she said, “Look after Mom and Dad. Get them to the spaceport now. Quickly.”  
  
“We’re not leaving you behind!” Leia, this time.  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “Leia,” she said, “It’s going to be fine, I promise.” It was a lie, of course, but it was a lie if only to try and reassure Leia if only a little bit. To tell her, however feebly, that everything was going to turn out all right in the end, no matter how hopeless it really was. “Just…get them to the spaceport. It’s the right thing to do.”  
  
Terminus turned, meanwhile, if only to Vader, Ventress and the stormtroopers. “Go after them. I will handle this.”  
  
“Are you sure about this?” Vader, this time. Mara had seen him on the Holonet if only a few times – a fierce, hot-headed man with a fierce loyalty to Darth Terminus and the Empire. He had built up a reputation of his own, really, what with his own personal Jedi killings and whatnot. He was more than willing to slaughter anyone who got in his way, no matter who they were. He had earned himself the title of “the butcher” if only for his ruthlessness; even the stories that Mara had heard in Ackmina’s bar didn’t disagree with that. From what she had heard from one space pirate, “When you looked into the eyes of Lord Vader, you saw only death.”  
  
And the way that Lady Nemo looked at him – it was almost as if she had known him once. Known him once, and perhaps even cared for him, if only slightly. The way that Vader looked at her, with a sort of hesitation to go after her…  
  
And then Vader turned towards Terminus. “No.”  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
“I’m not going after her. Not like this.” Vader looked, for all the galaxy, really, like he was in anguish. “I’m not going to hurt her. I _can’t_ – ’’  
  
“You would put your love for her over the matter of what we could accomplish?” Terminus’ voice sounded almost frustrated, as if he was trying to hammer a fundamental truth into Vader’s head. “She couldn’t possibly be worth that much to you…”  
  
Vader ignited his lightsaber. “Just let them go, Terminus,” he said, “Let _her_ go. She’s done nothing wrong.”  
  
And there was something in Mara that, even watching, could not help but feel almost confused as to what was happening.  
  
***  
  
Vader didn’t want to turn on Terminus. If nothing else, this was the last thing that he had ever wanted. And yet at the same time, he was tired, so very tired. Tired of all this needless death, tired of all this misery, tired of everything that was happening. And even at night, sometimes, he could swear that he could hear Padme’s voice, telling him that he was worth so much more than this, that he could do so much more than this. That he was meant for more than this. She had told him that once, when he had been holding her prisoner, when he had told her about Dooku, and how he wanted to overthrow the madman but wasn’t strong enough to do so. And what she, this wonderful, damnably kind young woman, had told him. That he was brilliant.  
  
He had never truly heard something like that from Sidious, or from Dooku, or from anyone, really. And this girl, this Chosen One…  
  
She had seen the good in him. She had seen the potential in him. He almost didn’t know whether to be grateful to her or hate her or both. But he couldn’t kill her. Not after all this time.  
  
So it was then that Vader stood on the side of Lady Nemo, Padme, the woman who had captured his heart from the moment she had landed on Geonosis, and he, somehow, was not afraid. Terminus…for all his admirable qualities, he had lost his humanity long ago. He didn’t understand what it meant to preserve the peace, and neither did the Emperor. The Sith had lost their way. They had betrayed everything that they were meant to be.  
  
Perhaps from there, he could at least somewhat make it right again.  
  
He turned towards Lady Nemo, towards Elizabeth Nerus and Ben and Leia, as well as Owen and Beru. “Get out of here,” he said, “I’ll hold him off. Trust me.”  
  
And the shock on Lady Nemo’s face, and then her smile that could have outshone the stars themselves – that, somehow, told Vader that he had done the right thing. He didn’t want to fight Terminus or Ventress, but if he could at least try and buy Lady Nemo – no, _Padme_. Terminus was right about one thing; she could change her name, but she couldn’t change who she was. She was still Padme to him, the brave, idealistic, kind, utterly impossible and strangely wonderful woman he had first met – and the others some time, then it was worth everything.  
  
***  
The thing about fighting Terminus – his stormtroopers, meanwhile, seemed to have gone off to find Leia and the others. She just hoped that they didn’t get the chance –  Mara thought, was the fact that, if nothing else, he seemed to be almost like a krayt dragon. A particularly cunning krayt dragon. He couldn’t really move very much in that armor, and his attacks seemed to be limited to an almost simplistic sort of way of fighting, in contrast to her partner’s – well, if one could really call him that. Weird sort of ally was more like it – more flashy sort of movement, as well as Terminus’ ally’s more acrobatic sort of movement, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t cunning. He seemed to be anticipating most of her attacks – although the fact that she had never really used this thing before had something to do with it, she supposed – and the most she could do was at least aim for areas where she could knock him out. Or at least injure him long enough if only to make a run for the spaceport with her…new ally, if she could call him that. It was strange having the man called the Butcher by so many people on her side, and yet, she mused, here he was. She almost didn’t know what to make of this. Especially since he seemed to be doing this, all of this, for Lady Nemo.  
  
It was almost too bizarre.  
  
Even managing to meet Terminus’ attacks, there was something in her, almost, that could not shake the feeling that, somehow, he was too familiar. As if they knew one another.  
  
Even as she skidded across the desert, wincing as the ground scraped against her back, she noticed Luke coming from the next house, obviously drawn out by the sudden noises. “What the _stang_ is even going on?”  
  
“It’s all right, Luke!” Mara tried if only vainly to warn him away from the scene even as she continued to fight off Terminus’ attacks, managing to, at least, make somewhat of a dent in his armor. That was good, she thought. Some degree of a start. “Just in a bit of a bind at the moment,” she said, “But I’m fine.”  
  
Luke, meanwhile, drew his blaster, firing at Terminus, who was distracted at least long enough to ward off the blaster bolts almost like they were nothing. It distracted Terminus at least long enough to cut through Vader’s left leg.  
  
Even watching it, it felt almost as if it wasn’t quite _her_ hand. As if it was the hand of a stranger’s. She took a deep breath, turned towards Vader.  
  
“Come on,” she said, “We should find Lady Nemo and the others.”  
  
Vader seemed almost hesitant now, looking from Terminus to Mara. Then, “Yes. Yes, we should.” He turned towards Terminus. “Come with us. It doesn’t have to be this way. You…you want to find Sabe and your daughter, don’t you? More than anything?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“No,” Terminus said, if only softly. “I belong here. Go.”  
  
And Vader, with a look of guilt and a sort of agony that Mara never expected to see from him, did.  
  
***  
  
Vader had betrayed him.  
  
Terminus supposed that he should have seen it coming. That was the way of the Sith in the end; they betrayed one another. They were more than willing to stab one another in the back as long as they got what they wanted. They were willing to do anything if only to get their power – that was how Sidious had gotten started, after all. He had killed his Master in his sleep like the coward he really was if only to become the Sith Master. Evil – that was the nature of evil. It never truly died. It just passed to another host.  
Except Vader hadn’t killed him. And he hadn’t betrayed him if only for power. He had betrayed him if only for…for _Padme._  
  
Even thinking about it, even considering it, nothing about it even remotely made sense.  
  
In a way it did. Vader had always had some degree of affection for Padme, twisted as it was – and yet at the same time, it wasn’t completely twisted, Terminus had realized. It was almost, he thought, as if it was one of his few redeeming factors. Even amidst the rage and the ruthlessness and the twisted sense of righteousness, he still, somehow, cared for Padme.  
  
It had almost scared him, in a sense, back when he and Vader were enemies. Even now, even as Terminus, it didn’t make any sense.  
  
And to think that that _boy_ had distracted him long enough for his own daughter to slice off his left leg…  
  
Terminus supposed, if only darkly, that Mara was shaping up to be exactly in his former Padawan’s image. Slicing off his leg, almost, he thought, like Padme had sliced off most of his limbs a long time ago, on Sullust. And he, being a complete and utter fool, had forgiven her then too. Because he was a complete and utter sentimental fool even after all this time, and somehow…  
  
It wasn’t the pain, necessarily, that had stopped Terminus – he doubted he felt pain anymore, really. Most of his nerves had been damaged on Sullust, no thanks to Padme, of course. But it had been the shock of his daughter, his Mara, slicing through his leg – and Vader’s betrayal –  
  
 _No,_ he thought. _I will not give into this._ Because he was Darth Terminus, and he was never deterred.  
  
He would find them. He would execute the traitors for their crimes – not out of a desire for revenge, but because, pure and simply, it was only right – and he would reclaim his daughter, and his wife. Yes. He would do that. His wife and their beautiful daughter. He would do that. No matter what.  
  
“Are you all right?” Ventress said, if only softly.  
  
“I am,” Terminus said. He couldn’t say he was in pain, but to say that missing a leg was more than a slight inconvenience was no doubt being mild. “We should get back to the ship.”  
  
“Yes,” Ventress said.  
  
It was long after she placed an arm around his shoulder, and he placed an arm around hers, that they headed back towards the nearest shuttle. They would need to get back to the Empire, and he would need to get a new cybernetic leg. The Emperor would be far from happy, but then again, Terminus thought, was he ever truly happy? He could face whatever punishment the Emperor had in store for him. After all, in time, the Emperor would get what he deserved. And when he looked up if only in shock at Terminus, wondering what led Terminus to do what he did, it would be the best possible justice for all of them that Terminus could think of. And he would rule, undoing everything that the Emperor had ever done. He would make things right again.  
  
After all, he was _meant_ to rule, in the end. Lord Sidious was nothing but a vain, greedy, cruel, pointlessly sadistic creature that, for all intents and purposes, wasn’t even human anymore as much as the embodiment of evil itself. The closest that evil could ever get in a human. Even looking into his eyes on occasion, there were times that Terminus was given chills, not necessarily because of the mutation that Mace Windu’s redirection of Sidious’ own lightning had given him, but because Terminus knew that behind those yellow, almost krayt-dragon-like eyes was the Dark Side itself.  
  
He could undo everything that Sidious had ever done. He could make everything right again, atone for all the sins that the Empire had committed…  
  
And even as he headed back towards the ship with Ventress, missing a leg, there was something about that that was strangely comforting. _Yes,_ he thought, _I can do this._ Because if he could undo every horrible day in the Empire, every wrong that they had done, every wrong that had even been done back in the Clone Wars, Force knew he would do it in a heartbeat.


	14. The Space Port

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara and Vader head to the spaceport and have a strange variation on bonding time. Plus, Han makes his first appearance, and the Fellowship of the Death Star plans is formed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was one of my favorite bits to write. Just because of the character interactions between Mara and Vader (the others too, but Mara and Vader especially). I found that really intriguing. Also, yes, Vader's alias -- the first name of it, at least -- is taken from his childhood friend, Kitster Banai. I thought it would be a nice touch.

If Mara was to be truthful, there was still something very strange about going to the spaceport in Mos Eisley with the man who had, essentially, been one of the Empire’s most notorious agents. The Butcher, as he was called in some circles. Even looking at him, though, there was something about him that seemed oddly…normal. Sad, even. Not the Butcher that she was used to, and certainly not the Lord Vader that she was more than used to. Because if nothing else, she didn’t expect to see a hint of melancholy on the latter’s face.  
  
“You didn’t have to step in and save our lives,” Mara said, even as they walked through the streets of Mos Eisley. Most people didn’t bother to bother them, thank goodness. Most of them seemed almost preoccupied with the matter of where they were going or what they were doing, and those that got in their way were at least smart enough to not antagonize Lord Vader. Mara supposed that that was one benefit. With Lord Vader’s reputation behind him, no one would really dare to get in his way. Mara supposed that if nothing else, it was a plus.  
“That’s a bad thing?” Vader’s voice was almost casual in that moment.  
  
“Well, not exactly,” Mara said, “But still…” She sighed. “You’re the Butcher. You’re Lord Vader. What makes you think that suddenly, everything you’re doing is wrong?”  
  
Vader paused. “I think,” he said, “We should probably have this conversation where no one else can hear us.”  
  
“Yeah,” Mara said. “Good plan.” Something in her, something in her that was still more than slightly uneasy about Vader, made a note to make a run for it or fight back should he decide to try and murder her in there.  
  
It was in one of the droid compartments outside Mos Eisley that Vader took a deep breath. “In all truth,” he said, “I was thinking of defecting from the Empire for a long time. Or rebelling against it somehow. I didn’t imagine that it would happen like this, though.” He sighed, ran a hand through his hair if only in weariness. “Somehow,” he said, “I always pictured that Terminus and Ventress would go with me.”  
  
And in spite of herself, Mara could not help but be fascinated. There was a sort of childlike way, for lack of a better word, in terms of how Vader was talking about all of this. Something that was almost akin to a fairytale. It was something, in truth, that she never really pictured coming from one of the Empire’s most vicious enforcers.  
  
“I know,” Vader said, “That it sounds unrealistic. But it is true. Ventress…she has always been like a sister for me. We were both taken in by the Emperor when we were children. She had a Sith Master that took care of her, but unfortunately, he died out there in battle…I did my best if only to take care of her from that point on.”  
  
“Somehow I don’t believe any of this.” A beat. “It’s not that I think you’re lying,” Mara said, “I mean, I can sense that well enough. Well, as much as I can.” Because she didn’t know how, necessarily, but there was something in her that sensed that Vader was being completely and utterly sincere. And perhaps that was the part that was the most frightening.  
  
Vader smiled. “You definitely have his strength. He was always…strong in the Force, your father.”  
  
“What do you mean?” It was no doubt a ridiculous question, but how did Vader even know her father? Nothing about this made even the slightest bit of sense.  
  
Before Vader could answer, there was the faint sound of stormtroopers outside. Vader sighed. “They’re on the lookout for us,” he said, “We’d best be careful.”  
  
“You don’t say,” Mara said, lowering her voice to a whisper.  
  
It was hiding behind the nearest available tools that they could find that they barely managed to evade the stormtroopers’ inspection. Even as the stormtroopers continued to inspect door after door, Mara held her breath, hoping that if nothing else, they could avoid these men. Even the slightest glimpse of their white armor was enough to make Mara’s heart speed up if only a bit, hoping if only slightly that they wouldn’t find them…  
  
It was long after they passed that Mara allowed herself to breathe again. “That was close,” she said, “Way too close.”  
  
“I think there’s going to be more close calls to come,” Vader said.  
  
Mara snorted. “You don’t say.”  
  
It was heading up towards the cantina that they found Lady Nemo and the others. By then, Vader had pulled his hood over his head if only so he wouldn’t be spotted. Even with the lively cantina music in the background and the amount of aliens in there, from Ithorian to Sullustan and many, many more. Even stepping into a place like this, there was something oddly cozy about it, even in spite of the more unsavory, sleazy types that sometimes frequented the cantina – it was a place where many could at least forget what was happening in the Empire or back on the farm, at least for a while.  
  
And though Mara preferred Ackmena’s cantina – there was just something about it that just wasn’t as overwhelming – she couldn’t say that she minded this cantina either.  
  
Lady Nemo was at a table now with the others, negotiating prices with another man. He was quite handsome, Mara thought, with a strong sort of jaw and dark brown eyes, tufts of brown hair framing his face. He was dressed in a simple sort of tan and brown jacket; everything about him was simple. Probably one of the space pirates, Mara thought, that used to frequent Ackmena’s cantina. Next to him was a towering Wookiee, with a crossbow and two chrome bandoliers.  
  
“…we’re going to need transport to Alderaan,” Lady Nemo said, in a voice that, Mara thought, really would have made her a fantastic diplomat. Or a saleswoman. Or both. “Do you have a ship that can do that?”  
  
The man chuckled. “You’ve never heard of the _Millennium Falcon_ , have you?”  
  
Lady Nemo raised an eyebrow. “Should I have?”  
  
“It’s the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve par secs.”  
  
Mara barely stifled a laugh. There was no chance that a ship could make a Kessel run in that amount of time.  
  
“You made the Kessel run through the Maw itself?” Lady Nemo’s eyebrows could have practically gone into her hairline, Mara thought. “That’s…quite a feat.”  
  
The man grinned. “Trust me, I’ve outrun Imperial ships. Not the local bulk-cruisers either. I’m talking the big Corellian starships. So yeah…she’ll be fast enough for you.” He turned to look at Mara and Vader. “And who might they be?”  
  
“My name’s Mara. Mara Lars,” Mara said, “And he’s…well…” _Come on,_ she silently pleaded with Vader. _Think of a good alias._ If he didn’t, it would be more than likely, she thought, that their chances of getting to Alderaan were pretty much doomed.  
  
Then again, she supposed, to say that going to Alderaan would be awkward with a former Imperial agent on their side was almost like saying that Tatooine sandstorms were a little dusty. She just hoped that it would go well and the Alderaanians wouldn’t make assumptions. They were there to help, after all. Vader too. Mara wasn’t sure whether or not she entirely trusted him, but what he was saying was genuine, at least. There was something in her that wondered how in the Corellian hells someone like him ended up in an institution like this.  
Then again, she supposed, everyone had their reasons. Probably what made it all so frightening. She made a note to ask Vader about it – preferably when this man was out of earshot.  
  
“My name is Kitster,” Vader said. “Kitster Stevens.”  
  
The man tilted his head, almost as if briefly suspecting something, before nodding. “Nice to meet you, Mara, Kitster.”  
  
Mara grinned, trying if only to make it look like she was being polite, friendly, all while not making it too obvious (she wasn’t sure how good she really was, really. Other than instances when the Jawas tried to sell them something, she couldn’t say how good she was or how bad she was at deception. Or at least hiding her relief that Vader’s alias managed to pay off). “Nice to meet you too.” She sent a quick grin towards Vader. _Well-played,_ she tried to say with that grin. _Very well-played._  
  
“So,” Mara said, “Who are you, exactly?”  
  
“Han Solo. Captain of the Millennium Falcon. Chewbacca here,” Han said, “Is my first mate.” He turned towards Lady Nemo. “So, what’s the cargo?”  
  
“Just passengers,” Lady Nemo said. “Myself, Ben, Leia, Mara, Kitster, Owen, Beru and the droids…and no questions asked, do you understand?”  
  
A beat.  
  
“Sounds fair,” Han said. “Local trouble?”  
  
“You could call it that,” Mara said.  
  
“That’s the trick, isn’t it? And it’s going to cost you something extra. Ten thousand in advance.”  
  
Mara felt almost as if her stomach had dropped. “You’re _kidding_.”  
  
“Sorry, sweetheart. But that’s how it is.”  
  
Mara flinched if only slightly at the word “sweetheart”. She took a deep breath. “How about two thousand now, then fifteen when we reach Alderaan? That’s pretty much…most of what we’ve got.”  
  
Silence. Han seemed to be deep in thought. Chewbacca, meanwhile, seemed to be looking at him almost as if he was silently judging him. Then Han finally spoke.  
  
“All right,” he said, “You’ve got yourself a deal. It’s in Docking Bay Ninety Four, in case you’re wondering.” He looked around. “And I think we better hurry up. I think we’ve got company.”  
  
It was looking in Han’s direction that Mara saw the stormtroopers, inspecting a slew of bodies in the cantina. She turned quickly towards Lady Nemo. “What did you just _do_?” she said. Even in spite of herself, Mara felt her stomach clenching. If Lady Nemo had killed someone, it was guaranteed that there would be more stormtroopers on their tail…  
  
Lady Nemo took a deep breath. “If it’s any comfort, Mara,” she said, “I did it if only to defend the others. There were these people harassing Owen, Beru, Ben and Leia, I tried to negotiate with them, they pulled blasters on us…” She rubbed her head. “Sa – Elizabeth and I had no choice but to defend them.”  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “Right,” she said, “We’re in more bantha poodoo than I think we were in previously. And that’s saying something.” She sighed. “We’re going to have to sell our speeder. I mean, it’s not like we’re ever coming back again…”  
  
Even as they headed outside if only to sell the speeder and get the necessary extra credits, Mara turned to look at Lady Nemo. “Are Mom and Dad going to be all right?”  
  
“They will,” Lady Nemo said. “Whatever happens, we will protect them.”  
  
“You…” Even looking at Lady Nemo, Mara could swear that she felt a degree of uncertainty emanating from her. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”  
  
“I don’t know how well we’ll be able to do it,” Lady Nemo said, “But whatever happens, we will protect them.” She placed a hand on Mara’s shoulder. “It’s going to be all right, Mara. I promise.”  
  
“I certainly hope so.”  
  
It was with the salesman, selling the speeder, that Mara felt a strange sense of melancholy. That speeder – she had used that if only in cases of, for example, racing over the Wastes and through the Dune Sea with Luke. Something she had taken some degree of refuge in whenever things got really bad. Now, in a way, she wasn’t just selling that thing for credits. She was selling at least a part of her past as well. A part of her home. Because there was no chance that she could ever really go home. Not with the Empire on her tail. And even away from home, especially away from home, they would never truly stop hunting her. They wouldn’t stop until she was captured or dead. But most likely dead.  
  
And yet the way that Terminus had looked at her, almost, for a moment, like he _knew_ her…  
  
Still, Mara buried those feelings, telling the salesman that she wasn’t coming back to the planet again, getting the credits in response, and at the end of the day, they at least had enough to pay Han by the time that they reached Alderaan. There was something in her that subconsciously hoped that she wouldn’t see Han again. His arrogance, his sheer presumption, the way he had charged them money that she doubted they even had in the first place…  
  
Mara took a deep breath. In between the matter of Han and the matter of having a former Imperial enforcer and a Sith traveling with them, this was going to get more complicated than she could have ever imagined. And considering everything else, that was saying a lot.  
“Are you all right?” Vader’s voice was gentle.  
  
“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just…I’m a little bit nervous.”  
  
“Don’t be. We’re all more than capable,” Vader said. “You’re more than capable.”  
  
Mara smiled if only weakly. “That’s not really what I’m worried about.” She grew more serious now. “Well, okay, maybe a little. Mostly, I’m just worried about whether or not we’re going to survive this.”  
  
“Of course we will,” Vader said. “After all – we have, amongst others, people who managed to evade the Empire and live. Isn’t that impressive by itself?”  
  
“Yeah.” Something about that, at the very least, was enough to make Mara feel better, if only slightly. “Yeah, it is.”  
  
The Empire was still more than just a bit of an intimidating force. But as long as they stuck together and continued fighting back against it…  
  
For now, they were a ragtag band of misfits, to say the least. But as long as they stuck together, they would get out of this alive, in one piece, and no doubt with one hell of a story to tell.  
  
And there was something about that, Mara thought, that even after everything else, made it all seem all too easy.


	15. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things go wrong for Han, and it really sucks to be Terminus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Writing Han, I admit, was kind of difficult. At least in the shooting Greedo scene. I decided to go for "Han shot first" (because Lucas' reasons for Han not shooting first kind of don't make sense to me, to be perfectly honest, and also, it's a good Establishing Character Moment for Han), and it was kind of hard to get into the mindset of someone who's just...sort of casual and pragmatic about it like Han is, if that makes any sense. On the other hand, I think I wrote Terminus pretty well, even if...well, it was kind of hard to write, admittedly. But it definitely also shows how ruthless Palpatine really is, and...well, evil.

Han Solo supposed that he should have known that Greedo would show up sooner or later, but it didn’t really make it any more surprising, really, when he found himself, on his way to get to the _Millennium Falcon_ , staring down the end of Greedo’s blaster. He had been intending, at the very least, to get the money that Jabba the Hutt wanted – he had been running a few odd jobs on the side, and running errands for Jabba the Hutt was one of them. Unfortunately, he’d been running behind on credits for Jabba, and considering how impatient Jabba could get, to say that he was screwed would probably be putting it mildly – he hadn’t necessarily expected Jabba to get this impatient, and he knew full well that Jabba’s patience was probably stretched very thin. Assuming that he had any patience left to begin with.  
“ _Going somewhere, Solo_?” the Rodian said.  
  
“Yeah, Greedo,” Han said, trying to at least keep himself relatively calm. There was no use, really, in panicking. Besides, when did he start panicking? He was pretty much the king of not panicking. Most of the time, at least. Considering that there were stormtroopers right behind him and one of Jabba’s thugs pointing a blaster in his face, he probably had every right to be a little bit anxious.  
  
Not that Greedo was anything to really panic about. They had to be honest here. Greedo wasn’t exactly the most incompetent of Jabba’s thugs – there were far more incompetent ones, Han thought. So many more incompetent ones – but he was still pretty green to things. He was impatient, highly excitable, and he had a talent, Han thought, for getting too cocky – something that wasn’t really advised in the smuggling business. One never knew when someone got the drop on you. For example, now.  
  
“As a matter of fact,” Han said, “I was going to see your boss. Tell Jabba that I’ve got his money.” At the very least, when Jabba heard that he got the money that he wanted, perhaps he could get off Han’s back and Han wouldn’t have the deadline all but hanging over him.  
“ _Jabba’s through with you_ ,” Greedo said, “ _You should have paid him when you got the chance._ ”  
  
“Look, Greedo,” Han said, “I’ve had some difficulties getting the money, but I’ve got it this time. I promise.” A beat. “I’ll pay Jabba later.”  
  
“ _We have no time for smugglers who drop their shipments at the first sign of an Imperial cruiser._ ”  
  
“Even I get boarded sometimes.” After all, what was he supposed to do when the cruisers caught up to him? It wasn’t as if he could simply let the Imperials get their hands on that stuff. After all, considering the Empire and their position on things such as smuggling spice…  
Han had already heard enough of what the Empire did to their prisoners. He had even seen it first hand, back when he was at the Imperial Academy on Carida. He had mostly gone there to fulfill a lifelong dream. It was moments like seeing how they treated their non-human prisoners – Chewie being one unfortunate prisoner before Han had rescued him and they had proceeded to flee the Academy as quickly as they could – that were enough to make Han realize that going to the Academy on Carida wasn’t quite the glorious dream that he thought it would be. If nothing else, it was quite the opposite.  
  
He couldn’t say that he had any love for the Empire. So, hopefully, the moment that he got away from Greedo, he could get his passengers to Alderaan and just get the stang out of there. It was the smart thing to do, at the very least. In the smuggling business, if you weren’t smart, you were dead pretty much immediately. That was the best that Han could count on, really.  
  
Greedo, meanwhile, didn’t seem to be buying it. _“You can tell that to Jabba. He may only take your ship._ ”  
  
Even that was enough to make something prickle in Han. Jabba and his thugs could threaten him all they wanted, but taking his ship? Taking the _Falcon_? That ship, not to mention Chewie, was all he had left. In a way, it was like his home.  
  
“Over my dead body.” Though Han tried to keep his voice steady, even casual, there was something in him that couldn’t help but be more than furious with Greedo if only for that.  
  
He’d already reached for his blaster under the table. If Jabba’s thugs didn’t take you down to Jabba’s own personal torture chamber or something like that, they’d kill you on sight. Han preferred to avoid either fate.  
  
“ _That’s the idea,_ ” the Rodian said. Han could swear that he saw a sort of glint in Greedo’s eyes. “ _I’ve been looking forward to this for a very long time_.”  
  
Han drew his blaster. “Yeah,” he said, “I bet you have.”  
  
And before anyone could even so much as blink, Han shot.  
  
In all truth, Han thought, he couldn’t say that he knew who exactly tried to shoot. He did, really. Greedo had tried if only vainly to defend himself, probably because he no doubt realized that he was messing with the wrong man, but even that – even that didn’t help in the end.  
Even looking at Greedo’s slumped over form on the table and the patrons staring at him if only in shock – some were even whispering – Han knew that he had to get out of here. He would have preferred, at the very least, if the confrontation had ended a little differently. If Jabba wasn’t on his case before, he certainly would be now. He just wished that the Hutt crimelord would, if nothing else, just stop sending his own personal thugs after him. If he had a problem, there wasn’t really any reason that he couldn’t come and talk to Han himself. It wasn’t like Han was afraid of Jabba or anything.  
  
Then again, that was probably part of the problem. Jabba was not the type to do face-to-face. He liked to have a nice bit of intimidation first. There was no other reason he’d send Greedo. Still, Han thought, he’d have to do better than that.  
  
And something in Han only hoped he hadn’t all but tempted fate as he said that.  
  
He turned to the bartender, who was looking at him with shock and confusion. He flipped him some credits – Han figured, at least, the bartender deserved some form of compensation for the fact that there was a bar fight. Well, if one could call it a bar fight. “Sorry about the mess,” he said, and left. He didn’t want to keep Lady Nemo and the others waiting – who called herself Lady Nemo anyway?  
  
Still, she seemed at least nice enough. A bit forceful – not that that was bad. Han couldn’t help but admire that about her, if only slightly. And she was kind of pretty too.  
  
It was in Docking Bay 94 that Han found them. Lady Nemo turned around, giving him a sort of quizzical look – bits of Greedo seemed to at least be clinging to his shirt. Han sighed. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, “Ran into a bit of trouble back at the cantina.”  
  
“What kind?” Lady Nemo’s voice was calm, but there was something in her that suggested anxiety. Not that Han could blame them. The group probably already had Imperial stormtroopers on their backs; they didn’t need the wrath of Jabba too.  
  
Which was probably why he’d take them as far as Alderaan, get the necessary credits, probably find a way to talk to Jabba about all this, smooth things over, and he’d go back to doing what he was doing before these oddballs dropped in.  
  
Han sighed. “Long story, not enough time.” He turned to look at the redheaded girl, who was looking over the ship if only quizzically. He got that response a lot, he found. Probably something about the fact that it was kind of an odd ship, and kind of strangely put together. Still, it was home.  
  
“She may not look like much,” Han said, “But she’s got it where it counts.”  
  
Kitster, meanwhile, seemed to be in awe. “It’s beautiful.”  
  
Han sent Kitster a quick look of surprise. Of all the things he’d heard, he couldn’t say that he expected that. Still, he supposed, Kitster was right. The _Falcon_ was beautiful. She probably didn’t look like much next to the shinier ships that others had (and really, even those were overrated, to say the very least), but she was fast, she was faithful, she was steady – she, along with Chewie, had been more than a constant companion in his life. In a way, she was like his best friend. “Well…thanks,” he said. He supposed he was starting to like this Kitster Stevens person already.  
  
It was then that Han heard them. A faint voice. “All right men, you know what to do. Get them!”  
  
 _Well, stang._ “I think that’s definitely our cue to get out of there,” Han said. “Come on! Get in!”  
  
They did, all the while dodging blasterfire from the stormtroopers. Han managed to dodge the blasts, as well as get in some of his own – after all, for all they boasted, most of them couldn’t hit the broad side of a bantha – before getting into the _Falcon_. With Chewie at the controls, all as the golden protocol droid mumbled about how much he “hated space travel” and the others strapped in, Han hit the release button if only to get the _Falcon_ to get into takeoff mode, before getting in beside Chewie, and strapping himself in. Considering how rough their journey was going to be, they would need the strapping in. “Chewie,” he said, “Get us out of there!”  
  
And with Imperial stormtroopers blasting at them, the _Falcon_ took off into the Tatooine sky, and towards Alderaan.  
  
And hopefully, Han thought, on a short enough journey to get back to Jabba with the credits he needed. He’d already tested Jabba’s patience too many times. He couldn’t take any more chances.  
  
Then again, it wasn’t like many people were stupid enough to take chances with a Hutt crime lord, and probably one of the most powerful ones on Tatooine. He just hoped that he could smooth it over quickly before it got ugly.  
  
***  
“So you’re saying,” the Emperor said if only calmly, “That even after all this time, after all this effort, the droids and the ambassadors escaped?”  
  
Terminus could feel a twinge of humiliation in him if only briefly, but forced himself to be calm, to not lose his temper in front of the Emperor. Not that that was an easy task. Because if nothing else, even remembering Vader’s betrayal, remembering Mara getting away from him, felt almost as if an old wound had been reopened. “I attempted to stop them, my Lord,” Terminus said, “But the girl…” He paused; even remembering it, everything about her, the sheer fire in her eyes…she was so much like Sabe that it almost frightened him. “The girl was quite skilled, even for a novice. She managed to take off one of my legs.” It wasn’t really the pain, he thought, that had gotten to him, really – it was the fact, plain and simply, that she had managed to beat him. Even if only temporarily.  
  
The Emperor made a motion akin to raising an eyebrow. “I see,” he said, but there was something about it that seemed almost as if he was saying, _You will pay for this in time._  
  
Even looking into Sidious’ eyes, there was something in Terminus that could not help but feel chills go down his spine. Because looking into Sidious’ eyes, there was something in them that told Terminus that he wasn’t even human anymore. Or was never really human to begin with, Terminus mused darkly, considering the matter of the Clone Wars. The wars that had made them into who they were now. It had made monsters of all of them, but Sidious was the exception, if only because really, he had been a monster to begin with. The monster who had effectively murdered them all, in ways literal and figurative. The manipulator. And even looking at him was enough to make Terminus feel almost afraid, because in those golden eyes, those almost krayt dragon-like eyes…there was nothing left. No sense of humanity. No sense of conscience, reason, even the most rudimentary sense of something like good or evil, life or death, right or wrong. There was only power, and the desire for more power. For all intents and purposes, Sidious lived in his own corner of the cosmos, and he was actively shaping the galaxy into what he wanted it to be. Destroying it. Smashing it, reshaping it, remolding it, and so much more.  
  
And he had made Terminus do it.  
  
“What do you suppose I should have done, Master?” Terminus said. “We aren’t supposed to kill innocents.”  
  
“You were made to follow orders,” Sidious said, “To do your duty to this Empire to the very last. You are, in the end, my servant. Our servant. Who are you if not to do my will?”  
  
 _I’m not your servant._ Even the thought of it was repulsive. He couldn’t bear the idea of being this creature’s servant, no matter how much it was, in the end, all too true. Because he was this monster’s servant. He had resigned himself to that fate, and if what Sidious was saying indicated anything, there was little to nothing he could do if only to get out of it.  
  
But he had to try. He had to – he simply had to –  
  
It was then that he felt the Emperor’s Force Lightning all but coursing through his body. Terminus had thought that he was all but incapable of feeling pain after what had happened on Sullust, and yet this…this, somehow, he doubted he had ever felt before. Electricity coursing through his body, all but lighting it on fire – it felt, almost, like he was back on the shores of Sullust, mutilated, badly injured, dying even as the fire continued to consume him, lick his body, char his hair, course into his lungs and his throat and so much more –  
And he heard something echoing in his ears. It felt almost like screaming. It had to be screaming, he thought. It was long after Sidious mercifully stopped – the Emperor seemed to love drawing it out. Almost as if Terminus’ screaming was music to his ears – that Terminus realized that the screaming was his own. He was weak, so very weak, and though he tried to speak – he didn’t know what for, to curse Sidious for what he did to him, to all of them, to beg for mercy, but he was almost grateful that the machines that controlled his speech weren’t necessarily up for obeying him this time. Because whatever he would have said…whatever he would have said would no doubt be horribly humiliating. He was all but broken, a wreck at Sidious’ feet…  
  
Even as they took him off if only to repair the armor, Terminus tried if only in vain to stay steady. To keep his strength from wavering. He would make Sidious pay for what he did. And when Sidious looked up in astonishment at the fact that his seemingly perpetually obedient student had killed him, then justice would truly be done. And he would reunite with Sabe, with their beautiful daughter, and everything would be truly made right again.  
  
Yes. It would be made right again. It had to be made right again.  
  
But dear Force, the agony, the never-ending _pain_ –  
  
Terminus let the darkness take him in that moment, and in the darkness, even as they worked to repair him, he dreamed of a better world. A better galaxy for Sabe, for Mara, for Padme, so many. Where Ahsoka was alive again, and their family was together, truly, as they were meant to be.


	16. The Destruction of Alderaan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara's Jedi training begins, and Alderaan is destroyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: So, yesterday was definitely a good day. Went to the local Christmas party, which was definitely a lot of fun, really -- I think it was just getting to chat with people again and stuff like that, plus watch some of the old Rankin-Bass Christmas specials (which are awesome) when I got home that was definitely two of the highlights to an awesome day. Only bad thing is that I'm rather tired.
> 
> As for this chapter...well, the Tarkin bit isn't exactly my favorite; I kind of worry that I got him wrong. I think it was with the Mara bit and the Bail Organa bit where I went right. And this was honestly kind of unsettling to write in general. It's definitely one thing to see the destruction of a planet onscreen (which is already horrible), but getting inside the heads of the one who did it as well as two of the people who died...yeah.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

The thing about space travel, Mara thought, at least once one managed to evade the Imperial ships – at least they were in hyperspace at the moment, and no one could really follow someone else into hyperspace. At least, if one decided to follow someone else into hyperspace, it wouldn’t be an easy feat, to say the least – and whatnot, was that in the midst of going to Alderaan, making sure that they had their destination in mind and whatnot, passing the time was, actually, a lot of fun. In the midst of R2-D2 playing dejarik with Chewbacca, and Owen and Beru getting to know Ben and Leia better, Han piloting, and Mara continuing to take her lessons in terms of becoming a Jedi from Lady Nemo, all while Elizabeth Nerus and Lord Vader looked on if only in curiosity, in terms of being stuck in hyperspace, this really wasn’t that bad.  
  
The question was, Mara thought, what would happen in terms of Luke and the others. Even though they had gotten away from the Empire at the moment…what would happen to Luke and the others? Would they be arrested? Even thinking about it, something in her chest could not help but clench. She didn’t want to think about Luke and the others suffering because of her. And considering that Luke had been a collaborator in terms of hiding Leia, Ben, Threepio and Artoo, it was very likely that he would be a prime target.  
She shivered. She almost didn’t want to think about it.  
  
“You seem to be drifting,” Lady Nemo said, if only gently.  
  
Mara sighed, deactivated her lightsaber. “Right,” she said, “I’m sorry.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m just…scared out of my kriffing mind.”  
  
“We’re away from the Empire,” Han said, turning to look at her. “Honestly. What is there to be afraid of?”  
  
Irritation spiked in Mara if only in spite of herself. Did Han –  
  
“My friends are in danger,” Mara said, “I mean…” She took a deep breath. “What if they come after Luke, or Camie, or anyone, really?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“It’s a very real possibility,” Vader said, “After all…the Empire’s become stricter in terms of cracking down on suspected ‘traitors’.” A beat. “But they are strong. They will manage to survive this.”  
  
Han snorted. “That’s not really much of a comfort.”  
  
Mara couldn’t disagree in terms of that. “They’ll take them to the prisons. I mean, what if – ’’  
  
It was then that Elizabeth Nerus stood up, placed a hand on Mara’s shoulder. “Don’t lose hope,” she said. “No matter what happens, we will break them out of the prisons. As long as there’s a Rebel Alliance, the Empire…” A faint chuckle. “Well, the Empire had better start worrying.”  
  
“Yeah.” Mara took a deep breath. “Yeah, it better.”  
  
It didn’t entirely reassure her – after all, the fact that Luke and the others were going to be locked up was still a very real possibility – but as long as they continued to fight back against the Empire, as long as they continued fighting…  
Mara reignited her lightsaber, got back to her exercises. Not that she was terribly good at all of this, she thought. In terms of trying to concentrate on the balls – the problem was that she seemed to be concentrating too hard. Or at least something like that. Because the balls decided to zap her instead. Not that it particularly injured her – they were just training balls – but stang did it hurt. She rubbed her leg if only gingerly, and over in the corner, she could see Vader trying to hold back a snort. Han, meanwhile, chuckled.  
  
“Right,” Mara said, “I know. I kriffed up, didn’t I?”  
  
“I just don’t get why you’re doing all this,” Han said, “I mean…” He grinned. “Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid.”  
  
Lady Nemo, meanwhile, turned towards Han, raised an eyebrow. “Ancient?”  
  
And Mara couldn’t disagree in terms of her objection. Han calling this “ancient”, never mind that she was perhaps one of the only Jedi left, never mind that this was basically her heritage –  
  
Han sighed. “I’ve been traveling this galaxy all over. There hasn’t been some mystical energy field or something controlling my destiny like you’ve been saying.”  
  
“You don’t know that,” Lady Nemo said. “It could be helping you, more than you know.” A beat. “It may be a key as to how you survived this long.”  
  
Han snorted. “It’s called luck.”  
  
“That doesn’t exist. Not really.”  
  
“Anyway,” Mara said, hoping to at least cut off the conversation before it got ugly, “Can you help me out here? I mean,” she said, “I’ve been trying whatever I can, and it’s not helping anything.”  
  
“How did you manage to cut off Terminus’ leg?” Lady Nemo said.  
  
“She cut off Terminus’ leg?” Han sounded impressed. “I…stang. Maybe I’ll keep her around after all.”  
  
“Who said that you weren’t?” Mara said. “I mean, until we reach Alderaan, you’re pretty much stuck with me.”  
  
“No, I mean after Alderaan. I mean…we could definitely use your help.”  
  
That, Mara thought, was something she hadn’t considered. “I…maybe you could come with us?”  
  
Han, this time, looked caught off-guard. Then, “Look, I don’t really take sides – ’’  
  
“Just come with us,” Mara said, “I mean…” She grinned. “You’re a good pilot, for one thing. I don’t think the Rebellion has enough of those.”  
  
“Maybe. Point is,” Han said, “I don’t take anyone’s side. I thought that I’d make it clear enough after…well…” He trailed off.  
  
“After what, Han?”  
  
“It’s not important.”  
  
Mara snorted. “Of course it is.”  
  
“It isn’t. So,” Han said, “What was that thing about cutting off Terminus’ leg?”  
  
“He’d attacked the homestead.” Owen, this time. “And Kitster – well, while we got to the spaceport, he stayed behind to help out. Mara here – things must have been going pretty badly – ’’  
  
“They were,” Mara said. “And then Luke, my friend – he ran out, he was firing at Terminus, and while Terminus was distracted…well, I cut his leg off.” She grinned. “It was pretty much dumb luck.” She faltered. “But really, dumb luck alone isn’t going to help me against Terminus. So…how do I do this?”  
  
It was then that Lady Nemo took out a helmet, placed it over Mara’s eyes. Mara couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. “Are you kidding? With the blast shield down, how am I even supposed to see?”  
  
“You’d be surprised,” Lady Nemo said. “Your eyes can deceive you. Don’t trust them.”  
  
“Okay.” So this was some sort of Jedi teaching. Don’t trust your eyes. Trust your… “So I’m supposed to just rely on dumb luck again?”  
  
“Not necessarily. Just stretch out with your feelings.”  
  
“All right.” Mara sighed. “So if I just reach out with my frustration or something, I’ll hit that thing?”  
  
“No,” Lady Nemo said. “That’s the mark of the Dark Side. That’s what Terminus and the Emperor use, as well as his enforcers.” Mara could swear that she could sense Terminus shifting uncomfortably back behind Lady Nemo. Lady Nemo continued on. “The Force surrounds all living things, from the people sitting around you to the stars themselves. Even the seeker droid in front of you.”  
  
“I…” Mara took a deep breath. “I guess I can do that.” She stretched out now, reaching through the Force – and it was then that she swore that she could actually see it, even though the blast shield was over her eyes. The round seeker droid, practically gleaming in front of her, and she could swear that deflecting it was going to be all too easy –  
  
\-- and it was then that even as the droid shot the lasers at her, Mara could do it. She could deflect the lasers that the droid was now shooting at her all too easily. Even as she continued to do it, even as the lasers seemed to all but bounce off her lightsaber they were so easy to deflect, she couldn’t help but feel excited. She was doing it. She was finally managing to do it. And finally, the droid lay in pieces at her feet. Mara removed the helmet, shaking out her hair, feeling sweat building up on her forehead, still exhilarated at the fact that she managed to actually _do it_.  
  
And across from her, Elizabeth Nerus watched her, impressed, while Owen and Beru – while there was a hint of worry and doubt in Owen’s eyes, there was no doubt that he was proud, and Beru…Mara doubted that Beru could be prouder. Vader looked impressed, and though he quickly tried to conceal it, Mara swore that Han looked impressed as well.  
  
Lady Nemo, meanwhile, smiled. “You see? You can do it.”  
  
Han snorted. “I call it luck.”  
  
“Either way,” Mara said, “I think…” She wiped her brow. “I think I might actually manage to pull through against Terminus and the others. What do you think?”  
  
“Good against remotes is one thing,” Han said. “Good against the living? That’s something else entirely. Trust me on this.” He shook his head. “Granted, most stormtroopers can’t hit the broad side of a bantha, but still…”  
  
“So you really do care,” Mara said, smirking in spite of herself.  
  
Han snorted. “I’m being realistic, kiddo.” It was at a light flashing on the control panel that he sighed. “Well,” he said, “Looks like we’re coming up on Alderaan. Better get back to the cockpit before something happens…”  
  
And he headed back towards the cockpit. Mara took a deep breath now. “You know,” she said, “It’s really strange, but I swear I could actually see the remote for a bit. Like it was there, even though I couldn’t…you know, see.” She blinked; somehow, there was something about just being able to see again that was almost unnerving. Everything about being on this new side of the Force, seeing things in a completely new way…she couldn’t help but be unnerved, to be perfectly honest. She doubted that she had ever had that sort of experience before, where everything seemed to be completely connected, bound by the same energy field that guided her actions even in that moment. Feeling, almost, like she was part of a greater whole. And then returning to the seemingly normal world, and yet being unable to look at it the same way after everything she’d seen, the energy coming from just about everyone in the room. In the Force itself, they weren’t creatures of flesh or metal or fur or whatnot. They seemed to be practically gleaming. Something wonderful and terrifying at the same time.  
  
“It’s frightening, isn’t it?” Lady Nemo’s voice was soft, concerned.  
  
“Maybe a bit,” Mara said. “But there’s something in it that…” She sighed. “I don’t even know how to describe it, Lady Nemo. There’s something about it that’s just strange and yet…wonderful.” She took a deep breath. “Is it always like this, with the Force? Something so much larger than we could have ever imagined?”  
  
Lady Nemo smiled. “Yes,” she said. “It’s always so much stranger, scarier, and so much more wonderful than you could ever imagine.”  
  
***  
As the Death Star continued towards the Alderaan system, Governor Tarkin could not help but feel a twinge of excitement even as they got closer and closer. Somehow, he had always been waiting for a moment like this. The moment when he managed to crush the Rebellion once and for all. They had always been a thorn in the Empire’s side, and worse than that – even when they were losing, as they should (after all, what made them think that they could stand up to the Empire? They were nothing, they were no one, they were nothing particularly important), they managed to somehow sabotage everything the Empire had ever worked for. Peace, freedom, justice, security. The Republic had never been fit to rule, and the fact that somehow, these Rebels were somehow trying to avenge the Republic, or put it back to where it was before the Empire had taken it over –  
  
They were wrong. Worse than wrong. They were completely deluded, and Tarkin knew that more than anything, he would enjoy destroying them. Wherever the Rebellion hid, wherever they attempted to hide, they couldn’t avoid the Empire forever. The Empire would find them, and they would destroy them.  
  
And from there, they would destroy any other planets that dared to stand up against them.  
  
Even thinking about it, the excitement almost grew. The idea of giving the order to fire, to have their new Death Star have its first blood – this was perfect. Some would shirk away from something like this, but they barely understood. Serving the Empire was an honor. And besides, what else could they do if only to enforce the fact that the Empire was a creature to be feared?  
  
The door opened, and the crew of the _Tantive IV_ came forth. They were haggard, but frustratingly enough, Tarkin thought, defiant still. They didn’t understand the Empire’s might. Why the Empire was so very mighty. But they would learn in time. They truly would.  
  
“Governor Tarkin.” One of them, a haggard Rebel soldier with copper hair, looked up at him if only in distaste. “I think we should have known that you were holding Terminus’ leash. We would have recognized your slimy presence the moment we were taken aboard.”  
“Charming to the last.” There was something almost perversely entertaining about the Rebels trying to be defiant even though if nothing else, they knew that they were doomed. Alderaan would pay the price, and they would watch. And when they watched Alderaan burn, they would understand, truly, why the Empire was meant to be feared. “You don’t know how difficult it was to sign the order to terminate your lives!” They were too cocky, Tarkin could not help but think. In all actuality, they seemed to think that they could defy the Empire. That if they kept up their dying-as-martyrs act (as Vader had referred to it once as being. He couldn’t say that he liked Vader that much, but in all actuality, it was the truth), they could somehow defeat the Empire. That somehow, their sacrifices would mean something, even though, in reality, they meant nothing. Because in the end, the Empire was meant to rule. He had known that, when Sidious had first come to him, asking for his help in terms of overthrowing the Republic. He had embraced the cause, because he knew, deep in him, that Sidious had every right to rule the Republic. The Republic were nothing but a bunch of arrogant, greedy, blinded, stupid, corrupt creatures, their government bloated with decadence and corruption, the Senators seeming more interested in fighting over power like a rancor with a raw piece of meat than anything else. Than actually being a government. Sidious, meanwhile…he was perfect. Even hearing his vision of things, the humans ruling as they were always meant to, the aliens deposed and stripped of their rights (after all, they were nothing more than inferior beings), every traitor that threatened them beaten down swiftly and punished such as well, was enough to make Tarkin follow him.  
  
After all, he thought, who could not listen to Sidious’ vision and follow him? For all intents and purposes, he was meant to rule. Terminus too, Tarkin supposed, even though the man was too burdened by conscience if only to do what was necessary. Still, he was a loyal soldier. Tarkin could not deny that. He was a valuable asset to the Empire, and they couldn’t afford to lose him. Vader was no more than a traitor and would be dealt with as such, and Ventress, for all her volatile nature, was highly loyal. But Sidious…Tarkin doubted that he would abandon Sidious, or the Empire, for that matter.  
  
And he would do anything if only to preserve the Empire. Even or especially blowing up the planet of Alderaan.  
  
In a sense, he had almost been looking forward to this, he could not lie. Bail Organa, for all he attempted to present his façade of being a good Senator and doing what he was told, was nothing more than a traitor, and Tarkin knew it. For all the good Senator from Alderaan liked to act as if he was an upstanding Senator, serving the Republic and whatnot, for all the good Senator from Alderaan as well as his offspring liked to pretend that they were nothing but loyal to the Emperor, it was nothing but a façade. He was working behind the scenes, Tarkin simply knew, sabotaging the inner workings of the Empire itself. Tarkin had taken his time, of course, tried to lull Organa into a sense of security as the Death Star continued to be built and refined.  
Now…now was the moment that they struck. And when they did, Organa would scarcely see it coming. And Tarkin would stand above Alderaan itself, in the Death Star, satisfied that the traitors to the Empire he had been determined to defend were dead.  
He continued now. “Before your execution,” he said, “I would like you, all of you, to be my guests at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare to oppose the Empire now.” And even saying it, he could feel the old excitement returning. When they had first begun the construction of this battle station, it had been a promising thing, but it had just been a shell, a blueprint, of what was going to be its final glory. It had been broken, a half missing there even as others continued to construct what would become the ultimate edge in terms of gaining a victory over the Rebellion.  
  
And now it would be ready. Already, Tarkin thought, he was looking forward to this. More than looking forward to this. He had waited for this moment for years.  
  
The copper-haired soldier, however, seemed to be less than impressed. “The more you tighten your grip, Governor,” she said if only calmly, “The more star systems will slip through your fingers.”  
  
She continued to be foolish. Defiant, even. But she would learn. “Not after we demonstrate the power of this station,” Tarkin said, “In a way, you, all of you, have determined the choice of the planet which will be destroyed first.”  
  
One of the other Rebel soldiers, a dark-haired youth that seemed to be nineteen at most, stared at him in astonishment. “You…you’re completely mad. You can’t do this. Alderaan is peaceful, we have no weapons…”  
  
Even the copper-haired soldier seemed to be frightened in that moment. And that, Tarkin thought, was more than satisfying. “You would prefer another target?” he said, “Another military target? Name the system then.”  
  
They would never, he thought, deep down. They were too obsessed with their own perceived martyrdom (even though really, it was nothing of the sort. It was nothing but posturing and nonsense) to really understand all of this. They could say what they would about the Empire, but in the end, the Empire didn’t blow up military bases, killing innocent soldiers, and call it morality.  
  
The Rebellion had been a thorn in their side for too long. To extinguish them, Tarkin knew that he would do anything. To defend the Empire, he would do anything. He knew, that should the stars themselves rebel against the Empire, their Empire, the Empire that they had worked so hard to build, he would annihilate them, and he would succeed.  
  
The soldiers, meanwhile, looked conflicted. Almost as if their nobility, their alleged nobility, was proving to be their undoing. Tarkin sighed. “I grow weary of asking this. So I will ask you one last time: where is the Rebel base?”  
  
Silence. The copper-haired soldier seemed almost, for the first time, genuinely frightened. To betray her people or to betray her comrades. Over the intercom, a voice said, “Approach to Alderaan, beginning…”  
  
Then, after a deep breath, the copper-haired soldier said, “Dantooine. They’re on Dantooine. That’s where they’ve been hiding all this time. You didn’t think to look.”  
  
Terminus, meanwhile, looked over at Tarkin, almost as if he were meaning to say something, to object. Ventress looked almost ill.  
  
“You see, Lord Terminus?” Tarkin said, “They can be reasonable.” He then turned to Motti. Whether or not the Rebel soldiers were telling the truth, they were too trusting either way. Dantooine was a remote place, a place long abandoned. Ever since the destruction of the Jedi Enclave by Darth Malak during the Jedi Civil War (apparently, if Sidious and Terminus’ recounting were any indication, the siege on the Jedi Temple was hardly the first time that Jedi had fought Jedi. It was one of many reasons, Tarkin thought, that Sidious was far more worthy to rule than any of the Jedi ever were), as well as the events that followed, Dantooine was all but forgotten by the rest of the galaxy. But Alderaan…  
  
Alderaan was a major source of Rebel support, Tarkin thought. If they destroyed the planet…  
  
That and it would be a good way to get rid of Bail Organa and others that worked within the Empire, dismantling it from within, once and for all. The Imperial Senate had already been dismantled (others liked to call it “suspended”, but dismantled was definitely more like it), but even that, Tarkin thought, would hardly be enough to get rid of those who dared to go against the Empire. It was, purely and simply, only reasonable.  
  
Tarkin then said the words, the words that, in a way, he had been waiting for for far too long. “You may fire when ready.”  
  
“What?” The copper-haired soldier looked, if nothing else, outraged.  
  
“Dantooine is far too remote to make an effective demonstration,” Tarkin said, “But not to worry. We will deal with your Rebel friends soon enough.”  
  
The copper-haired soldier looked down now, her eyes closing, her pride, effectively, broken. Terminus, meanwhile, seemed to survey her, if only with curiosity, sadness even. Almost as if wondering if they had done the right thing.  
  
Terminus was a fool. More than just a fool, but a sentimental one at that, just to add a worse layer to this. He would never be truly able to do what was necessary if only to preserve the Empire. He seemed to believe that everything would work out in the end. A man from a fairytale, as others would no doubt refer to him as. And Tarkin, in all honesty, could not disagree.  
  
“Governor,” Terminus said, “Surely there must be another way – ’’  
  
“There is no other way,” Tarkin said, “Now, prepare to fire.”  
  
Terminus seemed to be steeling himself for what he was about to do. He turned towards the Death Star’s gunner now and spoke, in a voice that seemed to tremble if only for a moment. “Fire.”  
  
And as the gunner pulled the necessary levers, lighting up the controls, Tarkin could swear that he felt his heart beat faster in excitement. This was the day.  
  
Yes, he thought, even as the laser appeared, firing towards Alderaan. Today was the day that the Rebels paid for what they had done. For revolting against the Empire, for daring to defy them. Just like others who had tried to before them. Tarkin had dealt with people like them before. This, really, was no different.  
  
And in one blow, in one quick, efficient blast, Alderaan exploded, scattering its flaming pieces everywhere. Tarkin could swear that the copper-haired soldier ducked her head down if only to hide the tears now streaming from her eyes, and Terminus stood next to her, a hand on her shoulder, almost as if he had decided, misguidedly enough, to try and show compassion towards someone who far from deserved it after all that she and her Rebel friends had done. But then again, Terminus had always been a fool. Tarkin almost couldn’t wait for the day that Terminus would be soundly gotten rid of as well.  
  
In the meantime, he stood on the bridge of the Death Star, looking down at Alderaan where it had once been and where flaming shards of a planet remained, and smiled. For this was his work, and it was more than good. It was magnificent. Truly a worthy first blood, of sorts, for the Death Star. His creation.  
  
And nothing could stand in the way of the Empire this time.  
  
***  
  
If there was anything that Bail Organa knew more than anything, it was the fact that in time, their charade wouldn’t be able to last forever. He had tried to honor Sabe’s words, to play the part of a good little Senator, as she put it, trying to pretend to support the Empire all while working however they could if only to subvert him behind the scenes. It wasn’t an easy task – not in terms of defying the Empire (that was the easy part), but it was the matter of staying hidden all the while. It kept feeling, almost, like Terminus was watching them, like Vader was watching them, like Ventress was watching them, waiting for them to betray the cause. But they had still worked. For those such as Galen Marek, people who had given their lives so the Rebellion would win the day. For those such as Ki Adi Mundi, killed without logic, without reason, by their own troops. For those such as Steela Guerrera and Ahsoka Tano and Satine Kryze, people in the Clone Wars who had died senselessly in a war that the Emperor had arranged as some massive vengeance plan against the Jedi Order.  
Remembering people like them, people who had died heroically or senselessly or both, was enough to give Bail the strength to keep going. To honor their names. And to honor the Republic that he had once served.  
  
He had expected the charade to eventually be found out. At least, it was a constant suspicion at the back of his mind. What he didn’t expect, however, was how he would realize the Empire had found out their charade. And that was in the form of the Death Star.  
Bail’s blood froze even as he saw the Death Star hovering in the sky – too big to be a moon, too big to be a space station. A menacing, ivory shape in the previously peaceful skies of Alderaan. The Empire had invaded their home. He turned towards Breha, who was still very much asleep. Then he turned, gently shook her.  
  
“Breha,” he said, softly. “Breha!”  
  
She stirred, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Bail,” she said. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Outside.” Even saying that one word, Bail doubted he had ever felt such despair come over him in that moment than he did now. Whether it was to be quick or prolonged, they would die. All that effort in fighting the Empire, eventually coming down to this. The Empire had been working on the Death Star for a long time. Now, Bail thought, Alderaan would be its first blood. Just one of many planets they would no doubt destroy. “The Empire is…outside.”  
  
Breha crossed towards the window now. Then she squinted, if only in bewilderment. It was then that comprehension came over her face, and terror. “The Death Star,” she said, softly. “They’ve found us. We have to leave.”  
  
“I don’t think that we have a chance,” Bail said. “The Death Star – they’ve been working on perfecting it. On having it fire one blast, and then destroy the planet.” Even saying it was enough to make him feel sick. If Tarkin’s quarrel was really with him, why didn’t the Grand Moff just come out and fight him, one on one? Then again, he supposed that he already knew the answer. Tarkin had always been fond of brute force, the more theatrical, the better. What he had done to those poor Rebel protesters was evidence enough of that. And other atrocities. But it wouldn’t last forever. He thought it would, no doubt. But like the Emperor, it was going to destroy him. Simply because he didn’t know how many people he would anger enough into fighting back.  
  
Because when there was so much injustice going on thanks to the Empire, did they really think that no one would dare fight back against them?  
  
Breha embraced Bail in that moment, gently, tenderly. “Together?” she said.  
  
“Yes,” Bail said, “Together.” No matter what happened, they would go together. He embraced Breha back in that moment, all while closing his eyes. _Whatever happens,_ he prayed to whatever gods were out there, _Make sure that Ben, Leia, Padme, Sabe and Mara are safe. Let them not come to harm. Let them be protected, no matter what._  
  
 _And no matter what happens, do not let the Empire win. For the sake of the dead, and the sake of the living that have to carry on without them. Please…_  
  
Then there was a flash of brilliant green light, and then there was nothing at all.


	17. The Justice of Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara and co. find out about Alderaan's destruction, and later have to do some quick thinking when the Death Star captures them. Also, Terminus has a bit of a twisted sort of talk with one of the Tantive IV crew members.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: First of all, I'm pleased to say that my French final is over. Let's say that I was stressing out about it for quite a while, so...well, let's say that this is like, "Thank God the evil is over!" (To quote the Nostalgia Critic. Granted, finals aren't necessarily evil, but still...) Second off, this was another one of my favorites to write, if only for Ben's reaction to Alderaan getting destroyed, as well as the matter of Terminus again. (I seem to have some sort of a pattern in terms of favorite scenes to write. I think I need help)
> 
> Also, got to sort of revise a bit in regards to one scene from "The Lawless" that's flashed back to in this chapter. Let's say I originally wrote "As the World Falls Down" long before that episode came out (obviously), and so incorporating all these new happenings was kind of difficult (let's say it seems to be a regular hazard, so to speak, with fanfic), but I think I managed to do it okay, and even work out one thing that was bugging me in particular. Honestly, that's one of many things I love about fanfic; it kind of allows you to deal with things in canon that are bugging you. (At least, that's definitely a perk for me)
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy.

It was in the midst of Mara’s lessons that she felt it. The explosion, inside her mind, and the screaming – the screaming of so many people, countless people, even as their lives were extinguished. Screaming, and then silence, even though the screaming still continued ringing inside her head. She dropped her lightsaber now, grabbed her head, practically digging her fingers into her scalp.  
  
“What is it?” Beru’s voice. “Mara, sweetheart, what is it? What’s wrong?”  
  
“It…it…” Mara almost wanted to vocalize what was happening, what had just happened inside her head, but somehow, she thought, she couldn’t. It felt almost like her throat had seized up, preventing her from saying anything. As if her vocal chords, in that moment, failed to obey her. “They’re burning,” she finally managed to say. “They’re all burning. They shattered into pieces.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Owen, this time, and Mara doubted that she had ever heard him or seen him more frightened. “Mara!”  
  
“I felt it too.” Lady Nemo, this time. The woman’s face had tear tracks on it. “I felt a great disturbance in the Force. As if one million voices cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced.” She rubbed her forehead. “I fear that something terrible happened to Alderaan.”  
  
“Alderaan?” Owen sounded frightened now. “Don’t tell me that – what happened to Alderaan?”  
  
Ben ran towards Mara this time, towards Lady Nemo. “Exactly,” he said, and Mara doubted that she had ever seen him this tense, or this afraid. “What happened to Alderaan, Lady Nemo? Please, tell me that Father’s all right…”  
  
“I think I just found Alderaan.” Han, this time, coming down from the cockpit. “Or what’s left of it.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Leia, this time. “What happened?”  
  
They sat in the cockpit now, and Han sighed. “I swear that the coordinates are right,” he said, “But…no Alderaan. It’s like it’s been completely…it’s just gone.” He turned towards Ben and Leia. “I’m sorry,” he said, and Mara could see the sadness in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I…” He rubbed his temples. “I wasn’t expecting this. I knew that the Empire were a bunch of bastards. I didn’t expect this.”  
  
“I know,” Leia said, and the steely look in her eyes, the utter hatred and rage in them, was enough to frighten Mara. And yet she was alongside Leia, and Ben, and Lady Nemo and Elizabeth Nerus, and Owen and Beru, and Vader, and Han and Chewie – all with the same rage and the same sadness in their eyes. In their faces. Because no matter what happened, no matter what their differences, no power in the galaxy itself was going to stop them from giving the Empire what they deserved. Namely, a defeat that they would never truly forget. They would pay. For everything that they had done in the past, and everything they had done now. Invasion. Murder. Genocide. Imprisonment and torture. All these things, all these things that they somehow thought that they would get away with simply because they were “in the right” – they ended now.  
  
And even keeping that in mind, somehow, Mara thought, her shaking suddenly subsided. Because they were going to take the bastards down.  
  
In the name of all those innocent people who had died on Alderaan just because the Empire thought somehow that they could keep the people of the galaxy in line – and really, how could they? They were in people’s homes, arresting their families or killing them, and so many other things that even thinking about was enough to make Mara sick. Of course people weren’t going to take it lying down – they were going to take those bastards down.  
  
It was in that moment that a series of almost erratic beeps came from the control panel. Han sighed. “Oh, great. What now?”  
  
And that, Mara thought, was another thing that she couldn’t disagree with. Alderaan, their destination, was gone. The Empire was no doubt in range. How could things even get any – ?  
  
It was in that moment that she got her answer. A fighter. More precisely, an Imperial fighter, speeding towards them.  
  
“It followed us.” Even Leia’s voice sounded tense in that moment. “But that makes no sense! You can’t follow someone into hyperspace.”  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s heading towards us, Leia.” If nothing else, the fighter seemed to be heading past them. Right towards that moon over there.  
  
Except it wasn’t a moon. For starters, it was almost too big, Mara realized, to be a moon. Despite the fact that it was as white and as shiny as a moon ever was, it wasn’t a moon. Even through the pale glow of the structure, an almost eerie white shine, Mara could see that it was too ridged, too shiny, too…durasteel-looking to be a moon.  
  
It was a space station, unlike any sort of space station that she had ever seen before. It was huge. More than huge. It seemed to dwarf the _Millennium Falcon_ itself, and even the stars. It stood there, mighty, huge, like nothing that Mara had ever seen. For all intents and purposes, a space station like this couldn’t possibly exist. And yet here it was.  
  
“It’s the one,” Ben said, “The Death Star.” He rubbed his head. “We managed to at least recover the Death Star plans in time. Now…if the Empire finds us – ’’  
  
“Yeah,” Mara said, “I know.” She took a deep breath. “We better get out of here. Can you reverse it, Han?”  
  
“Sure thing,” Han said. “Full reverse! Chewie, lock in the auxiliary power.”  
  
Chewbacca did so. Except even that wasn’t any use. Because no sooner did Chewbacca do it that the ship lurched – only to be pulled towards the Death Star.  
  
“What happened?” Mara said.  
  
“We’re caught in a tractor beam,” Han said, “Just…calm down. I’m sure that we can fix this. Is the ship in the tractor beam too?”  
  
Mara furrowed her brow. “You’re going somewhere with this, aren’t you?”  
  
“If we can find a way to create a shroud to throw off the tractor beam,” Han said, “We can get out of this. We just need to destroy the fighter, assuming that it’s traveling along the same line as the tractor beam, and then we can distract the tractor beam enough to escape.”  
  
Mara could only stare at Han. She had heard of plenty of ridiculous schemes, but this… “Are you a madman?” she said.  
  
“Besides,” Ben said, “What if the crew of the _Tantive IV_ is on there?”  
  
Han turned around and stared at him. “What?”  
  
“Our ship,” Leia said. “They were captured in the battle above Tatooine. It’s very likely that they were, at the very least.” She took a deep breath. “If they’re on board the Death Star somehow, we have to assist them.”  
  
Mara couldn’t disagree with that. If they could at the very least try and save the people on board the Death Star, whatever prisoners they could –  
  
The key was just to make it quick enough if only to avoid being captured by the Empire. Otherwise…if the Empire found the Death Star plans, Mara couldn’t imagine what would happen.  
  
Han, meanwhile, seemed to be torn between disbelieving and impressed. “You two are either really brave or really crazy,” he said, “Or both.” He took a deep breath. “All right. Just hide in the floor compartments of the _Millennium Falcon._ It’s going to be uncomfortable, though, just to be warned.”  
  
Chewbacca made a sound akin to disapproval.  
  
Han sighed. “I know, Chewie,” he said, “But really, it might be the only way to get into the Empire without being captured. After all,” he said, with a sort of grin that Mara couldn’t help but at least find endearing, even despite herself. The man was frequently rude and rough and cocky and all those things that one wasn’t exactly supposed to find endearing – at least, as Mara had known back on Tatooine – but at the same time, the man knew how to turn on the charm if necessary. That, she supposed, and there was some hint of being a good guy in there. He probably just didn’t want others to see it. For what reason, she couldn’t say. “What are the odds that they’re going to be looking in the floor compartments? If there’s something that I’ve learned in terms of dodging Imperial ships, it’s that they’re really not as smart as they fancy themselves to be.”  
  
“I think,” Vader said, “That goes without saying.” He took a deep breath. “We should get inside. Every moment delayed makes it all the more likely that they’ll catch us.”  
  
“You don’t have to tell me twice, pal. Come on.”  
  
Even clambering inside the floor compartments, Mara knew, in a way, that Han was right. Even trying to bite back the protests as someone else got too close to her, stepped on her foot if only by mistake, scrunched into her space too much, or anything else, even trying to just bite her sleeve if only to avoid being heard by the people pulling the _Millennium Falcon_ inside, there was something about just being in those cramped floor compartments that, somehow, seemed to stretch out forever. A horrible, uncertain sort of eternity, just banking on the faint hope of the Empire just not catching them. Still, she tried to calm herself, to still her breathing as best she could, if only so they wouldn’t be heard. Even hearing the faint chatter of Imperial officers as well as the comm voice giving announcements from the Imperial hangar, she willed herself if only slightly to stay calm.  
  
 _It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to survive this, no matter what._  
  
At the very least, Mara hoped that that would indeed be the case.  
  
***  
  
Ada knew full well that the Empire was monstrous. She had heard enough of it, seen enough of it, from her time in the Rebellion, acts such as Tarkin landing his Star Destroyer on unarmed protesters, people who had mostly been there, if nothing else, to protest the Empire’s brutality, not to harm anyone – they hadn’t even done anything to defend themselves when Tarkin had done what he’d done – but who had died anyway. She had heard enough of it from Terminus’ speeches and whatnot. And yet somehow, this…this, she was somehow not prepared for. She knew that the Death Star was made to be the Empire’s ultimate weapon, ready to destroy anything that dared threaten the Empire no matter what it was – to destroy it in just a few blasts or even just one blast, such as in this instance. But this…  
What had Alderaan as a whole done wrong? They hadn’t done anything. Whatever they had done if only to oppose the Empire – and even that, Ada thought, that was mostly them doing what they could, if only to restore the peace to the galaxy that the Empire had all but robbed from them. No, they had robbed it from them. There was no sugarcoating it, no denying it, no nothing. They had effectively subjugated the people to a life of fear and tyranny, and no Empire, no government, should be built on the backs of fear and slavery. That was something that the Emperor, Terminus, their minions…something they would never truly understand – Alderaan had nothing to do with this. All those people, all those people who had died, they didn’t have anything to do with it, and the Empire had all but exterminated them in just one blast.  
  
Terminus…even before the Death Star had fired, Ada could have sworn that he had looked – at least as best he could from behind the mask; for all intents and purposes, the mask seemed to cover any semblance of feeling, giving him almost the air of simply not caring. For all intents and purposes, he seemed detached from everything, above everything, more of a force of nature than a living or even relatively living being – almost remorseful. As if destroying Alderaan would be painful for him. But really, if it had pained him this much, why didn’t he say something? Anything at all? Why hadn’t he taken a stand, said no, had the guts to at least try and do what was right where others in the Empire wouldn’t? What had been holding him back?  
  
It was in that moment that Terminus entered. Ada couldn’t help but almost hate the sound of his heavy breathing, the way it seemed to echo and fill the room like something out of a particularly horrid nightmare. The sound of his footsteps too, and the way that he seemed to tower over her, a great black-armored gargantuan, like something out of one’s nightmares. The Empire equivalent of the boogeyman, going after those who wouldn’t behave. And even looking at him, trying to keep her face steely, there was something in Ada that could not help but be afraid. But even that was overwhelmed by the sheer rage that filled her in that moment. Rage for what he had done to Alderaan, rage for what he had done in the name of the Empire. And rage for everyone who had died.  
  
“I think it’s a little late to apologize, Lord Terminus.” Even trying to keep her voice calm, Ada swore that it was shaking with rage.  
  
Terminus seemed to all but tilt his head a bit, almost as if curious at her predicament. Then, “Are you well?”  
  
“You destroyed my home planet,” Ada said, “And so many innocent people who didn’t even have anything to do with any of this. I sure as all the stars themselves am _not_ ‘well’.” She took a deep breath. “And my friends – you invaded their minds. You invaded _my_ mind. There is nothing that you can even so much as say that’s going to convince me that you were somehow justified.”  
  
“I – ’’  
  
“Don’t. Just…just _don’t._ ” At this point, Ada was already trying to take deep breaths, trying if only in vain not to think about her family – her family, who had nothing to do with any of this, roasted alive by the Death Star’s ray. And so many other families, who had nothing to do with any of this, burning, dying in agony, all because the Empire somehow wanted the galaxy to fear them. If they couldn’t inspire love from the citizens of the galaxy – and for damn good reason – then they would inspire fear instead.  
  
Except they didn’t inspire fear. Not now, and not then either. The galaxy didn’t fear the Empire, and it wouldn’t now. They would fight back, and when the Empire lay in ashes finally, then Alderaan and so many innocents would be avenged.  
  
Terminus didn’t even seem to strike her, or hurt her. Ada almost expected the strike, she couldn’t deny that. But instead, he said, “I know that this is feeble solace at best, but I never wanted this to happen. You are not the only one who lost someone this day.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Terminus couldn’t possibly have loved ones back on Alderaan. _Could he_? Terminus didn’t seem to care for anyone, really.  
  
She couldn’t picture him caring for anyone, at least.  
  
“There was a former…friend of mine on Alderaan,” Terminus said, and though his vocoder couldn’t really capture the matter of normal human speech, such as it going softer or lower or whatnot, there was something about the way that he said the word “friend” that was almost like it. Almost as if whoever this friend was, they still caused much pain for him. “A Senator. He was a noble man, a kind man, and a good friend. And perhaps one of the best Senators that the Republic had ever known.”  
  
Now, even in spite of herself, Ada almost couldn’t help but be fascinated. Something in her was already telling her not to listen to her, that he was no doubt lying to her, trying to turn the blame off him for what happened to Alderaan and instead to cast him in a more pitiable sort of light, and yet there was something about the way he was talking where, even in spite of everything, she couldn’t help but be curious about him, even though her curiosity was slight. Terminus was one of the first things to surface after the Emperor first declared the Empire, but to think that he existed back when the Republic was still the Republic…  
  
What kind of lies and what sort of threats, she could not help but wonder, drove him from one side to the other? Or were there no lies or threats, and he just did this if only for power’s sake? She couldn’t say. A part of her already didn’t want to know the answer.  
  
“But if he was down there,” Ada said, “Why didn’t you say something? I mean, you’re the Emperor’s right hand man,” and already, she thought, she couldn’t believe that she was all but giving the Emperor’s right hand man advice, but really, she was. And she at least had to know _why_. “Why didn’t you say something?”  
  
“The Emperor,” Terminus said, “Is not a forgiving man. Besides, Tarkin – as you said quite eloquently, he was holding my leash.”  
  
Ada had at least suspected that Tarkin had a stronger hold on Terminus than either of them really let on. She didn’t think, really, that her suspicion would turn out to be the truth.  
  
“But you don’t have to put up with him,” she said.  
  
“I’m afraid I do. The Emperor’s will is difficult to disobey. He made it…quite clear to me the last time that I disobeyed.”  
  
Already, horrible possibilities flashed through Ada’s mind, and she winced. What could the Emperor have done to Terminus that was so terrible as for Terminus to not disobey him again? She almost didn’t want to know the answer. The Emperor was not a merciful man. It was highly unlikely that he would ever truly go easy on Terminus. “What do you mean?”  
  
It was then that Terminus went silent. “It does not matter,” he said.  
  
“What?” How could he even say that? Mentioning all of this, the matter of his friend – whoever he or she was, really – and the matter of the Emperor and wanting to at least fight back against him somewhat and then just finishing it with “It does not matter”? What sense did that even make?  
  
“It does not matter,” Terminus said, “I have suffered worse indignities.” A beat. “And I cannot say why I am discussing them with you. I can only assume that I have gone mad.”  
  
Now, almost in spite of herself, Ada could not help but pity him. “I can imagine that being Lord Terminus can be lonely,” she said. “Why do you continue?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“What makes you believe that I have a choice in this matter?”  
  
It was long after Terminus left if only to investigate a report from the Death Star docking bay that Ada was left in thought. Terminus was good at manipulating people, she knew that full well. After the methods of torture that he had used if only to weasel information about the Rebel base, the Death Star plans, and the ambassadors out of her (along with other things), she knew that it was foolish to trust him. And yet there was something in him that seemed so very vulnerable, so very saddened in that moment, that somehow, in spite of herself, she couldn’t help but pity him.  
  
Ada sighed. It was far too easy, she thought, to see the Empire as nothing more than monsters. It had been one of many things keeping the Rebellion going after all these years – just to take down the monsters that had enslaved them, the monsters that had no business being there. The monsters that had destroyed everything that the Republic had tried so hard to uphold. Monsters, monsters, always monsters. Whenever things got particularly terrible, one had to remember the monsters that threatened them still, the monsters that were still out there, and fighting on, moving forward, continued being easy.  
  
Except for a moment, Terminus didn’t seem like a monster. He seemed like a man. It probably didn’t matter – even monsters had their moments of kindness. It didn’t mean they were kind people. And yet…  
  
In the end, Ada thought, the best that she could really do was focus on finding a way out. They were going to be executed soon, for their “crimes” – even though really, their only crimes were fighting against a corrupt government. They hadn’t really even wanted to harm anyone. They mostly wanted peace. And the Empire had destroyed them anyway. It didn’t seem to matter, at least, to the Empire, who they were. They were traitors who deserved to be punished. Even if it meant that others would be undeservingly punished with them.  
Perhaps that was why Terminus visited – another possible reason, at least. To try and comfort her before her inevitable death. But he didn’t know that she wasn’t ready to die, and neither were the others. They were of Alderaan, after all. They would not surrender. Their wills were made from durasteel, and their courage was strong.  
  
And at least keeping this in mind, even somewhat, was enough to comfort Ada.  
  
***  
It didn’t matter.  
  
Whatever she said, it didn’t matter, not really. It wasn’t him who ultimately gave the orders to destroy Alderaan. It wasn’t him. It was Tarkin. After all, Tarkin was nothing but a sadistic monster, he was nothing, he was completely and utterly –  
  
And yet at the same time, something in Terminus already said that she had a point, and a more than valid one as well. After all, he hadn’t given the orders if only to destroy that planet, and he hadn’t pulled the trigger either. But by standing by, simply doing what he was told, he might as well have pulled that trigger.  
  
And somehow, he thought, that was perhaps the worst part about it. About all of it. The fact that even though he hadn’t pulled the trigger, not really, he might as well have pulled it. That he might as well have ordered the destruction of Alderaan just by standing back, just by doing nothing.  
  
And yet what was he supposed to do, in the end? Tarkin had power over him. Tarkin was all but holding his leash. Tarkin had control over him – because Tarkin was one of the Emperor’s favorites. For all intents and purposes, he couldn’t go against Tarkin any more than he could go against the Emperor.  
  
And somehow, Terminus thought, that was one of the worst parts about all of this. He had always been a soldier following commands – as Vader had once derisively told him, back when they were enemies, all while neglecting to realize that in a way, he was a soldier following commands as well. Were they really that different, in the end? – doing what he was told, following the Jedi Code to the letter, the very Code that was all but drilled into every youngling’s head since they first learned to pick up a training saber and fend off seeker droids, if only in preparation for the trials that would face them in the real world. After all, the real world, the galaxy at large – the galaxy at large was far from kind. Ruusan had taught the Order that well enough, if history was anything to go by.  
  
He had always been doing what he was told. And joining the Empire, somehow – somehow, he almost couldn’t see the difference between following the Code to the letter back when he was a Jedi, back when he was still a Padawan, back when he was still a Knight, back when he was still a Master, really, and following the Emperor’s orders in the Empire.  
  
The difference was that the Jedi didn’t willingly slaughter innocents.  
  
Yes, Terminus thought. That was definitely the difference. For all the Jedi’s crimes, such as torture (he could still remember Padme’s terror and distress long after the interrogation of Cad Bane), they wouldn’t blow up a planet filled with innocent people willingly, if only to punish traitors, real or perceived. They wouldn’t do that. And even if they did, they would at least have the decency to feel remorse.  
  
Tarkin…as far as Terminus was concerned, he didn’t have any remorse, any humanity, left in him. All that seemed to be left in him was a bitter sort of hatred for the Rebellion for threatening the Empire, a sort of hatred that was enough to chill Terminus, and he was purely machine. He couldn’t say that he had the capacity to feel cold or fear left, and Tarkin’s behavior, somehow, made him feel almost afraid. Not for himself, necessarily, but for the others who would most likely suffer the consequences of what Tarkin was doing. Because Tarkin wouldn’t stop. For all intents and purposes, he would keep going until there were no planets left, no stars left, no moons or suns. He would keep going until the galaxies themselves were obliterated, and there was only the Death Star left. He would do anything if only to subjugate the galaxy itself, to make it not rebel.  
  
Except if there was anything that Terminus had learned during the Clone Wars, it was the simple, honest fact that when there was tyranny, when there was oppression, there was always someone there to fight it. He could still remember his confrontation with Maul, when he, Padme and Sabe were trying to save Satine.  
  
 _“It takes strength to resist the Dark Side,” Obi-Wan said, and for however cruel it was, he had to somehow find a way to rage against Maul, at least in the figurative sense. To resist him. To let Maul know that whatever he did, he had no power over any of them. “Only the weak embrace it.”_  
  
 _A sort of fury that Obi-Wan doubted he had seen from Maul – even when he had killed Qui-Gon, he had been disconcertingly calm about it. There wasn’t even a flash of hatred in his eyes, just a calm sort of finality – came into the Zabrak’s golden eyes. And something in Obi-Wan, though he knew that it was wrong, could not help but feel almost satisfied._ Touched a nerve, I see. _Just telling Maul, effectively, that he was nothing but an empty and sad and pathetic and hollow creature was enough, at least, to help Obi-Wan keep from collapsing, even as he watched Satine – the woman who had hardly done anything wrong except try and make a better world for Mandalore – all but writhe in Maul’s force-grip. He could at least hope that Maul didn’t decide to take out his anger further on Satine. He could only hope._  
 _“Those who embrace the Dark Side are stronger than you know.” And there was something about Maul’s face that terrified Obi-Wan in spite of himself, even though Obi-Wan tried to hide it. It was practically grinning at him like something out of one of Obi-Wan’s nightmares._  
 _“And those who resist it are stronger than you’ll ever be!” It was no doubt a feeble rage against what was happening on Mandalore, all this suffering that Maul and the others were causing – and even just seeing it, what they had done to Satine; Obi-Wan knew that rage and revenge was of the Dark Side as well as hatred and hunger for power (something that Maul had in spades, as well as a sort of fierce loyalty that he hadn’t expected from someone from an Order whose main trait was backstabbing one another to gain more power, something the Jedi never would do), and yet just seeing the humiliation that they had put Satine through, watching everything she had ever worked for crumble…_  
  
 _He wanted to humiliate Maul, to anger him. He wanted to punish him. Never mind whatever Maul had suffered; somehow, even that was nothing next to the suffering that he had put others through. All those people, dead because of him._  
 _The hatred in Maul’s eyes blazed almost like the fires of Mustafar themselves._  
  
 _“Maul,” Obi-Wan said if only softly, “I am…sorry for what Sidious did to you. Whatever he did to you. But you can’t continue doing this. You’ve done terrible things this day, and they end now.” He drew his lightsaber. “If you want to have another victim, take us, but leave the people of Mandalore in peace.”_  
  
But Maul hadn’t, and Satine had died. Even thinking of her, it was almost hard to suppress his anger towards Maul, the guilt he felt (if only he could have saved her, if only, if _only_ ), the hatred he had felt towards the Force for allowing something like this to happen ( _how could it simply allow this to happen, how could it?)_ and most of all, the fact that more than anything, he missed Satine. She had been one of the most devoted and one of the bravest women he had ever known, and a dear friend. If there was a chance to walk the white current, to bring back those who had died during the Clone Wars…  
  
In truth, he would probably bring back all of them (because really, what was the point of any of their deaths? Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all). But he knew that one of them that he would bring back, along with Ahsoka, was Satine. Because she deserved so much more than this. More than anything, she deserved so much more than this.  
  
The best he could do was at least attempt to work from the inside. And to find Mara. The last trace of Sabe that he had.  
  
In a way, he thought, Mara reminded him a lot of those he had lost. She reminded him of Sabe, obviously, with her fire and devotion, but she reminded him of Satine with her strength, and Ahsoka with her determination and her skill.  
  
Even thinking about it was enough to hurt more than anything else.  
  
But he knew full well that this was no time for mourning. Not now. This was the time for action. So even as he listened to the officer next to him, saying that the crew of the ship they had just captured had no doubt abandoned ship right after takeoff (smart, Terminus thought. No doubt futile in the end, but smart) and that the escape pods had been jettisoned (again, futile but smart), Terminus listened if only carefully. Then, “Did you find any of the droids?”  
  
“No, sir.”  
  
“The ambassadors?”  
  
“No, sir.”  
  
“The girl from Tatooine?”  
  
Terminus could have sworn that the officer raised an eyebrow. Then, “No, sir. Not really.”  
  
Terminus sighed. This was going to be a long day, to say the very least. “Send a scanning crew aboard the freighter. I want every part of it checked.”  
  
“Yes, sir.” The officer then walked away. “Send a scanning crew aboard,” he said to the others. “Lord Terminus wants every part of the ship checked!”  
  
If Terminus could smile under the mask, he no doubt would have. For all the instances of incompetence in the Empire (and there were, in truth, many instances of them. For all the good soldiers in the Empire, there were plenty who seemed to exist solely to try Terminus’ patience), there were plenty of good, loyal soldiers, willing to do whatever they could to protect the Empire. Not men like Tarkin, who seemed to solely exist if only to show the worst traits of the Empire – ruthlessness, hatred, cruelty – but men who were willing to die in the Empire’s service, protecting their citizens from the Rebellion – a group that seemed to think that everything they did was perfectly all right as long as they were somehow doing it for the sake of the Republic – an institution that was already dying before Sidious even came along. Before he, Terminus, even came along. Men who were willing to protect the Empire whatever it took.  
  
And those men…who were they, if not to have their loyalty somehow rewarded? Anyone who showed loyalty to the Empire more than deserved it in return. A reward as well, if only for their loyalty.  
  
If Terminus could smile under the mask, he would have. Sadly, it seemed that the fires of Sullust seemed to have taken that away from him as well, in more ways than one. After everything that had happened – Sabe turning against him, for example, and Padme, and so many others – it was hardly implausible to say that Terminus’ faith in just about everything else had been shaken. Add in Vader’s betrayal and whatnot…  
  
Others liked to call him a monster. Some of the Jedi he hunted, for example, on the Emperor’s orders…they were more than happy if only to call him a monster, a traitor, which, Terminus thought darkly, was a lot like Nute Gunray calling someone else greedy or cruel or cowardly or corrupt. Because the Jedi had already proven their status as traitors, all when they had tried to kill the Chancellor instead of taking him to trial, all because he was part of a group that they hated the most.  
  
Except, Terminus thought, what if he had let Mace kill Palpatine?  
  
But would it have been right? Did they, in the end, have the right to do this, any of this?  
  
Did they have the right to kill the man, in cold blood?  
  
It was a sort of question that Terminus doubted that he could ever truly answer, because the answer itself…the answer itself seemed to forever elude him. Should he have let Mace kill Palpatine? A lot of suffering would have no doubt been averted, but even so…  
The best he could do, at least in the end, was find Mara. The girl from Tatooine. The girl, he thought, that had Sabe’s fire. Their beautiful, wonderful daughter, who they thought they would raise on Naboo, long ago, in a brief moment of innocence during the Clone Wars, when they thought that everything would turn out to be all right in the end.  
  
He would find Mara. He would find Sabe, Padme, and the others. And perhaps they would set things right again. Overthrow the Emperor, rule the galaxy, make things as they should be.  
  
Yes, Terminus thought, he could do that.  
  
***  
  
Even as Mara continued to huddle in the compartments, biting down tightly on her sleeve if only to prevent herself from making any sort of noise (even breathing, really) that would lead to her and the others being discovered, she could not help but feel a growing sense of a sort of unease, even as the officer continued to sweep the ship. The continuous sound of footsteps echoing above her, and the spikes of unease, even as the officer continued walking about, giving distant orders as to “search the cockpit” and “search this room”, continued. Mara tried to tell herself, at the very least, to calm down, that it was going to be all right. To not panic. If she panicked, the officer would most surely find them, and that would ruin everything that they were working for. For example, other star systems most likely suffering the same fate as Alderaan already did.  
  
 _Alderaan…_ Even thinking about it was enough to make Mara’s blood boil. What had Alderaan done if only to warrant such punishment? Alderaan was a peaceful planet, at least from what she had heard. Full of scientists and philosophers. Hardly people who posed any sort of threat to the Empire. And if the Empire really, honestly, thought that destroying Alderaan would pose as some sort of object lesson…  
  
Mara was grateful that she was biting down on her sleeve in that moment. Because if she wasn’t…  
  
Eventually, the sound of the officer giving orders, walking about, faded into the distance until it faded completely. Han’s hand on her shoulder was almost gentle. “It’s okay, kiddo. You can breathe now.”  
  
Mara removed the sleeve from her mouth, opened the compartment door, gasping frantically if only for air. _It’s all right. You’re all right. They didn’t find you._ And yet at the same time, it had been so close, so stanging close, that she could not help but still be terrified. Still, she forced air back into her lungs. Thank goodness, she thought, that they hadn’t been caught.  
  
 _Thank goodness the Imps were stupid enough to not check the floor compartments,_ she thought, if only wryly. For people who prided themselves on being able to catch traitors on sight, they really weren’t that good at their jobs. Not really.  
  
Behind Mara, other floor panels opened if only to reveal the others. Chewbacca groaned if only softly; apparently, Mara thought, she was in good company in regards to how unpleasant being in there really was. She turned towards him, gave him a sympathetic smile, and Han gently sort of patted his head.  
  
“It’s a good thing you had those compartments,” Leia said, if only wryly. She seemed to be thinking the same thing that Mara was. _Good thing that the Imps didn’t think of looking in the floor compartments._  
  
Han sighed. “I usually use this stuff for smuggling. I didn’t think I was going to be smuggling myself or anyone else in them.” He ran a hand through his hair, seeming almost agitated. “Honestly, this is ridiculous. This is probably the most ridiculous mission I’ve had and I’ve had my share of ridiculous missions…”  
  
“There’s no need to say that,” Lady Nemo said. “It’s possible to get the crew of the _Tantive IV_ , then get past the tractor beam and to the Rebel base before the Empire can catch us.”  
  
Han snorted. “Yeah. That’ll work.”  
  
“Actually,” Elizabeth Nerus said, “If we stayed behind, shut off the tractor beam – ’’  
  
And already, Mara could not help but panic if only on the inside, because she knew what that meant. It would be more than likely, really, that if the Empire found them, they would kill them. They would torture them if they didn’t kill them. And somehow, Mara didn’t want to risk either option.  
  
“Lady Nemo,” she said, “Miss Nerus – ’’  
  
“I think you can call me,” Elizabeth Nerus said, “Elizabeth.” And there was something in the way she said it, something in the sort of wavering of that word, that suggested that there was a certain agony in what she wanted to say but couldn’t say. But what could she possibly be suppressing that she couldn’t say?  
  
“All right,” Mara said, “Elizabeth, Lady Nemo…you don’t have to do this. Trust me. You don’t.” She took a deep breath. “You don’t have to throw your lives away like this. Just…trust me on this.”  
  
Elizabeth smiled if only sadly. “It’s what we’ve always done,” she said. “What we were born to do. There’s no need to worry, Mara.” A beat. “If it means keeping you and the others safe, then by the stars themselves, we’ll do it.”  
  
A beat.  
  
“You…” Mara bit her lip. “You’re very noble,” she finally managed to say. “The both of you. You really are.”  
  
And she swore that a smile more radiant than the twin suns themselves came over Elizabeth Nerus’ face. There was something lovely about it, she thought – lighting up the beautiful if almost sad face with a sort of intensity that she doubted that she had ever seen before. A sort of light that came to her face, to her dark brown eyes, that was beautiful to watch.  
  
And somehow, Lady Nemo seemed to be smiling as well.


	18. Infiltrating The Death Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the rescue attempt begins, and things don't go as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This is another one of my favorite chapters, if only because of the Padme and Vader conversation, the interaction between Mara and the others, and the whole twist with Terminus pursuing them personally. Also, the garbage chute sequence and the chapter ending. I think this might be one of my best chapters, actually.

The matter of infiltrating the Death Star wasn’t what you called particularly hard. All right, Mara thought, it was hard. After managing to at least get some stormtrooper armor from some particularly gullible stormtroopers who fell for the old “hey, can you give us a hand down here” trick, not to mention the “we’re taking in this Wookiee and these civilians in for questioning” act (to say that Chewbacca had to take some convincing was no doubt an understatement; Mara had almost worried that the Wookiee would actually rip her arms off), they finally made it to the computers. Mara finally took the time if only to remove the stormtrooper helmet; somehow, she thought, she almost didn’t know how the stormtroopers endured. They could hardly see anything in that helmet for one thing. Also, she thought, it could get awfully hot in there. She knew that it was the least of her concerns considering there was still the issue of getting caught as well as the matter of rescuing the crew of the _Tantive IV_ , but even so, she could not help but worry.  
  
Mara turned to look at Han. “You know,” she said, “I think the stormtroopers fell for our earlier trick too easily. I just hope they’re not planning anything.”  
  
Han snorted. “Yeah, because what Chewie and I just had to do means that they were falling for it.”  
  
Mara rolled her eyes. “If you wouldn’t blast everything in sight,” she said, “Maybe this would go a little more smoothly.”  
  
“Bring it on!” A sort of cocky smile flashed across Han’s face. “I’d prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around.”  
  
Mara was about to retort that the “sneaking around” was actually quite important if they were going to pull off this rescue mission when Threepio, thankfully, managed to interrupt. “We found the computer outlet, ma’am.”  
  
“Awesome,” Mara said, “Artoo, can you access the records? See where they may be being held?”   
  
Artoo gave an affirmative beep. It was after a long, almost tense while that Artoo finally managed to report back. THEY’RE ON LEVEL FIVE, DETENTION BLOCK A-A TWENTY THREE. ACCORDING TO IMPERIAL RECORDS, THEY’RE SCHEDULED TO BE TERMINATED.  
  
“Stanging hell…” Mara ran a hand through her hair. The Empire was particularly known, amongst other things, for their executions. If they failed to save the crew of the _Tantive IV_ …  
  
“What is it?” Now Ben looked worried. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “Ben, Leia,” she said if only softly, “You’re not going to like this. But they’re being held at Level Five Detention Block A-A-23. The bad news is that they’re being scheduled to be terminated.” Even saying it was enough to make Mara, almost in spite of herself, feel almost ill.  
  
Ben and Leia, meanwhile, looked almost as if they had been kicked in the chest by a Gamorrean. Several Gamorreans, really. Still, they managed to regain their composure if only quickly. Leia spoke. “Is there a way to infiltrate the detention block? After all, there’s always a way.”  
  
Mara turned towards Artoo. “Artoo,” she said, “Do we have anyone in our way of getting to the cell block?”  
  
YES, Artoo said, IT’S VERY HEAVY SECURITY. AND CONSIDERING THE RIOT THAT MR. I’D-PREFER-A-STRAIGHT-FIGHT-TO-COMMON-KR

IFFING-SENSE AS WELL AS CHEWBACCA JUST STIRRED UP…

“Well, great,” Mara said if only sarcastically, “We’re going to have to fight our way to the complex. That’s going to be fun.”

Han grinned. “Are you kidding? That’s what I’ve been waiting for!”

“Han.” Leia, this time. “Do you think this is some sort of adventure? People’s lives are at stake.”

Mara doubted that she could have ever been more grateful for Leia speaking up than she was now.

Han looked ready to come back with a retort before Lady Nemo, thankfully, spoke up. “Artoo,” she said, “Can you get a readout on the matter of the tractor beam and how to shut it down? I don’t think that us rescuing the _Tantive IV_ crew is going to be of any sort of use if we don’t have some sort of means to get out of there.”

Artoo toodled if only softly. It took a long while before he brought up the readings for the tractor beam.

Lady Nemo walked over towards the terminal, seeming if nothing else, thoughtful. “Apparently,” she said, “There are seven places where the tractor beam is connected to the main reactor. A power loss at one of the terminals will allow the ship to leave.”  
Han took the moment to interject. “Honestly, for people who think that they can catch and keep traitors, they’re really not that good at it.”

And there, at the very least, Mara had to smile if only slightly. There was something about that joke, at the very least, that was enough to make her slightly like Han again.

Vader seemed to chuckle as well. “I don’t think you have any idea,” he said, “I mean…” He then seemed to falter, become less amused. “The Emperor and the others have been making a lot of irrational decisions lately. I mean…honestly, I think that this is just the tip of the metaphorical iceberg.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Mara said. “It means that the Empire can be brought down.”

Vader turned to look at her, and a sort of smile seemed to come across his lips. “You’re already adjusting to being a Rebel Alliance member quite nicely,” he said.

“I don’t know about that,” Mara said. She knew full well that she couldn’t return home. Not really. And yet it didn’t mean that she wasn’t somehow uneasy.

Lady Nemo then interjected. “Kitster and I,” she said, “Need to talk. About the matter of shutting down the tractor beam.” A beat. “Call it…unfinished business.”

“You two are going alone?” Han seemed almost incredulous. “Do you want to throw your lives away?”

Lady Nemo’s face seemed to go almost gentle. “Han,” she said, “It’s the life of someone in this business. Being willing to make the hard decisions where no one else will. Now…can you please let Kitster and I speak?”

Silence.

“Sure,” Han said, with a sort of softness that Mara didn’t expect. “Just…do what you’ve got to do.”

Even as Lady Nemo and Vader left, Han turned to look at Mara. “I swear,” he said, “She’s probably one of the strangest passengers I’ve ever had.”

“She’s not that bad,” Mara said. “I mean…she’s a really nice person.”

“Yeah,” Han said. “Nice but strange.” A beat. “Honestly, though…does she want to get captured by the Empire?”

“I don’t think any of us do,” Mara said.

Han snorted. “So that’s one thing that we agree on. Well,” he said, and his voice became more serious, “Besides…besides Alderaan.” He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “I do wonder why they do it, really. I mean, what’s the damn _point_?”

“There isn’t any point.” Leia, this time. “They just destroy because they can. That’s why we fight against them. Because no Empire should be built on the backs of fear and slavery.” And the fire in her eyes, the sheer grief in them, almost terrified Mara. Even just looking at her…

Silence.

“Yeah,” Han said, and Mara could not help but notice a sort of sadness in his face. “It shouldn’t.”

Mara took a deep breath. “Han,” she said, “Can you tell me a bit more about you?”

Han seemed almost surprised, almost as if, in all his years, he hadn’t really expected anyone to, of all things, ask him about himself. “Well, sure,” he said, “What do you want to know?”

“Well,” Mara said, “Anything, really. Where you came from, what sort of passengers you carried…”

Han chuckled softly. “You sure you want to hear about my passengers?”

“Well, sure,” Mara said. “I mean…why not?”

“Well,” Han began, “There was this whole smuggling mission I had to Nar Shaddaa…”

***

It was in the relative privacy of one part of the control room that Padme and Vader could finally talk if only in private. She had already sensed Vader’s reaction when she had read out the matter of the information at the terminal, about the matter of shutting down the tractor beam. The sort of tense sort of fear, the sort of worry, of what Terminus would do with her when he found her. She could understand his reaction if only slightly; after all, Terminus and the Empire were not known for being particularly gentle towards their prisoners. And yet at the same time, there was something else in his reaction, something that had almost startled her though she supposed that maybe she shouldn’t have really been that surprised – after all, it was perhaps as obvious as anything else – it was the fact that really, he didn’t want to lose her.

Padme supposed that she shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, during the Clone Wars, even though they were on different sides, she knew that Vader had a sort of admiration and a sort of worship for her. The way he looked at her sometimes, almost as if she was one of those angels from Iego that others mostly brushed off as the matter of legend. Even something about that almost scared her, if one was to be truthful. The sort of devotion that he had. And yet even that…what was startling was the fact that there wasn’t anything particularly carnal in it, not really. It was the sort of respect mixed in with a sort of innocence in the way he felt towards her that made it remarkable.

Vader was very much like a hero out of a fairytale – innocent, idealistic, wanting nothing more than to make things right again. And that, Padme thought – that was one of the reasons he simply wasn’t made to be a Sith. She had tried to help him a few times over the course of the war, to say that the Sith wasn’t the right path for him, and yet even trying to tell him that – he seemed almost frightened, as if he couldn’t imagine a life outside the Sith.

Padme supposed that she shouldn’t be surprised. After all, if one had been growing up with Sith beliefs all but drilled into their head since they were small children, it would be almost terrifying if someone suddenly suggested a way out. But it didn’t mean that it didn’t break her heart. Because there had to be something more for Vader. There had to be. He couldn’t simply just give up.

“You seem to be scared,” she said, and if nothing else, the sort of tense fear that was already vibrating through Vader’s body didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon.

“I am,” Vader said. “More than scared. I mean…” He seemed to be almost struggling with the matter of what he was saying even as he said it, as if he was trying if only vainly to make his own words, his own vocal chords obey him. “I…I don’t want you to die, Padme,” he said. “You’re perhaps one of the most amazing, skilled, kind, wonderful Jedi that I’ve ever met, and I just don’t want you to die.”

“Who said anything about dying?” And somehow, Padme could not help but be almost afraid. Because everything that he was saying, at least in that moment – it was all but saying “I love you, Padme” without saying it explicitly.

“I know,” Vader said, “But Terminus…” He took a deep breath. “He’s gone, Padme. I can’t exactly describe it, I can’t say that I knew him as well as you did, but whatever was there…it’s gone. I know that the first few weeks when he was recovering from the surgery that Sidious did on him…he wasn’t even himself, Padme,” he said, and the way he spoke now, it was almost as if he was saying, _Why did you do this to him, Padme? Why did you leave him there to die? This isn’t you._ And Padme knew that he was right. If Terminus hadn’t told her to run, if she didn’t have Sabe to take care of, as well as Mara and Ben and Artoo and Threepio, she wouldn’t have run. Somehow, in her mind, she was already picturing what could have happened if she’d saved Terminus. If any of this could have been avoided. “He was just…” He bit his lip, almost as if holding back the tears. “He was just so filled with rage. And I suppose that’s what Sidious wanted, I know that I told him to concentrate on his hate just to heal himself because that’s what the Sith do – Padme, I just wonder: is all we do hate? Is that all we’re made for?”

His voice shuddered and then cracked. Padme, if only gently, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Of course not,” she said. “It may be all the Dark Side is. That is its nature. But it’s not all you are. You…” She took a deep breath. “You are made for more, even if you don’t see it. You’re far worthier than you think you are.” A beat. “And I’m certain that there’s hope for Terminus as well. He could have left me to the Emperor at Sullust, he probably had every right to, but he didn’t.”

“What do you mean? What did he do?” Vader seemed almost confused now.

“He told me…run.” Padme watched the look of utter amazement come over Vader’s face. “I just wish,” she said, “That I hadn’t listened to him. But I thought that I’d at least honor his memory. And save Sabe.” She took a deep breath. “Believe me, I never would have left him there if he hadn’t…” And even saying it aloud, she swore that her voice, embarrassingly enough, cracked. _By the twin suns themselves, Jedi aren’t supposed to lose control…_

Vader seemed to sense her distress, because he reached up towards her face. He looked at her if only to ask for her approval, to ask if it was all right if he tried to comfort her. Padme merely nodded. He ran his fingers along her cheek in that moment, a moment of comfort. There was something about his fingers, Padme thought, that felt nice, really. Gentle fingers. Sort of like a mechanic’s fingers. Slender and tough and yet gentle at the same time, brushing away the tears that were finally falling. His eyebrows seemed to furrow now, almost as if in distress.

And it was then that she felt herself being crushed against him, almost hard enough to the point that she nearly couldn’t breathe. Vader was already making sounds in his throat, almost like he wanted to say something, anything, but Padme sent him a suggestion in the Force, a gentle suggestion that he didn’t have to say anything, not really, that it was all right. That it was, no matter what happened, all okay. Even as the tears all but flowed out of her, the tears if only for Qui-Gon, if only for Ahsoka, if only for everyone who had died horribly and needlessly and so very far away from home, she felt almost embarrassed – Jedi weren’t supposed to weep, not like this – and yet she almost couldn’t stop. Vader continued rubbing her back if only gently, murmuring things that sounded like nonsense and yet were comforting, at least in this moment.

She finally drew away, tears staining her face. Vader’s fingers were gentle, tentative, continuing to wipe away the tears that had messed up her cheeks. His eyes, gentle, questioning, still so very full of concern, and so very filled with compassion, that Padme almost couldn’t help but be enthralled by him. There was always something bizarrely enthralling about Vader, in the way he carried himself and the way he spoke, but it was moments like this, seeing Vader’s gentle heart plain on his face, that enthralled her all the more. Because he was a genuinely good man. He just didn’t really realize it.

“I’ll go with you,” Vader said, if only softly.

“You don’t need to,” Padme said, “I mean…”

“Padme,” Vader said, “I’m not letting you die back there. You…” He took a deep breath. “You are too good of a woman to die back there.”

“Then we’ll go together,” Padme said. “Ready?”

Vader took a deep breath. If nothing else, he looked genuinely pained, genuinely frightened at the idea of having to face off against Terminus, but nonetheless, more than anything else, he seemed ready. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m ready.”  
They headed back to the control room now. Han looked at them, almost curious, as if wondering what really happened back there, but to Padme’s relief, he said nothing. Already, just telling Vader the truth of what happened at Sullust was draining enough; somehow, she didn’t need Han’s judgment.

“Kitster and I will be heading over to shut off the tractor beam,” she said. “Mara…you’ll be going to rescue the _Tantive IV_ ’s crew, right?”

Mara merely nodded. There was a sort of determination and a sort of steel in her face that reminded Padme, almost, of Sabe. There was something at least in that that was enough to hearten her. She could only hope that Mara and Ben and the others would be all right. If they were hurt…

_Don’t think like that_ , she told herself. _They’re not going to be hurt._ And yet it was a sort of worry in the back of her mind, almost mother-like come to think of it, that they would.

“I’ll stay behind,” Elizabeth said, “Watch the droids.” A quick, almost cocky smile, somehow, Padme thought, almost like the Sabe of old. “Trust me, I can more than handle myself with a blaster.”

“Same here,” Owen said. “We’ll lock the doors if they come by.” A beat. “And just hope that they don’t have blasters or something.”

Padme couldn’t disagree with that. She could only hope that Elizabeth, Owen and Beru, as well as Threepio and Artoo, would be all right.

“Good luck,” she said, “All of you.”

She turned now to Mara. Even looking at her, looking at the woman who was all but Sabe with Obi-Wan’s hair and painfully expressive jade green eyes, Padme swallowed. There was so much that she wanted to tell Mara. About her father. About her mother. But she knew she couldn’t, not yet. There would be a time, but not here, not now. Not when she wasn’t ready if only to hear the truth. If she foisted it on Mara too early…

“Mara,” she said, “Just remember. The Force will be with you, always.” _If I don’t return somehow, carry on in my stead._

Mara grinned. “Good luck, Lady Nemo. Be careful.”

“You too.” Perhaps there was no such thing as luck, just the Force, Padme supposed that in a sense, they were one and the same.

After all, she thought, even as she headed outside with Vader, dodging the watchful eye of Imperial officers and stormtroopers alike, she would need all of both luck and the Force she could get.

***

“Other Jedi, here?” For the first time in a long while, Grand Moff Tarkin looked almost skeptical. “Are you certain about that?”

Terminus stood now in the conference room, looking directly at Tarkin. The Grand Moff was flanked by other Imperial soldiers. And even in this moment, Terminus could not help but feel at the very least a twinge of irritation. Tarkin – the man who was so very used to seeing traitors everywhere, but when Jedi showed up, those who could actually pose a threat to the Empire, he didn’t seem to believe it. Then again, Terminus supposed, he probably shouldn’t be surprised. After all, the Empire had done their best if only to make certain that the Jedi were all but exterminated. Terminus himself had played a role in it, as had Vader and Ventress, the two taking to the matter of the hunt in different ways – Vader as a sort of solemn duty, and Ventress with a sort of passion and ferocity that would have awed the Sith of old. Vader preferred to strike if only in numbers – something Terminus could not disagree with – while Ventress preferred to strike alone. And Terminus himself…Terminus merely followed orders and did what he was told, something that still troubled him late at night as he meditated.

Was it the right thing to do? The Jedi were a threat to the Empire, yes, but whatever their threat…they didn’t deserve this.

Tarkin, meanwhile, continued on. “The Jedi are extinct. Their fire has gone out of the universe. You, my friend,” and there was a sort of unpleasant twinge in Terminus, because whatever they were, whatever their working relationship was, they weren’t friends. Not really. Working partners, perhaps, allies, yes. But not friends. He hadn’t liked Tarkin much at all back when he was Obi-Wan Kenobi, and that hadn’t changed now. “Are all that’s left of their religion.”

“I felt it. On Tatooine. A tremor in the Force. Whatever you may say,” Terminus said, “The Jedi still live. I don’t believe their fire has been extinguished as much as you may believe.”

Tarkin seemed to be about to reply when the comlink buzzed. Terminus tilted his head even as Tarkin answered it. Over the comlink, a voice said, “Governor Tarkin. We have an emergency alert on Level A Detention Block AA-23.”

And through the Force, Terminus could feel it. Not just the presences of Lady Nemo and Lord Vader – and he silently resolved if only to deal with them later for what they had done – but the presence of the girl. Mara Lars. Shining bright and vibrant through the Force.  
Tarkin’s response to the comlink voice was crisp. “Put all sections on alert.” He then turned towards Terminus. “Are you well, Lord Terminus?”

“The girl – the Lars girl. She is a Force sensitive. I have felt her.”

Tarkin raised an eyebrow. “And what will you do with her?”

“I must face her alone.”

“Are you certain about that?” Tarkin seemed all but disbelieving.

“Yes.”

Terminus left the room in that moment, tensed, more than ready for what lay ahead of him. At the very least, he hoped that he was more than ready. Tarkin no doubt believed that he was going to kill Mara Lars, but if nothing else, he couldn’t. Not really. Not just because she was really only a teenager – he had killed younger, but even that he was far from proud of, necessary as it was – but really, because in the end, she was really the only family that he had left. His own family back on Stewjon was no doubt gone, and Padme had betrayed him. Vader had also betrayed him. Ahsoka was gone as well. Even those losses…

He didn’t care about Padme, not really. Or Vader.

No, that was wrong. He did care about them. But they didn’t matter. They couldn’t matter. As long as he found Mara again. And Sabe. Even if Sabe didn’t want anything to do with him. Or Mara for that matter.

She was in the cell block. Level A, Detention Block A-A-23. It would be easy to find her there.

Terminus headed now towards the turbolift. No matter what happened, nothing would prevent him from finding Mara Lars and the others. Nothing at all.

He would find her. He would tell her, at the very least, who he was. And perhaps from there…perhaps everything could be made right again.

***  
The problem, Mara thought, with planning a successful escape was the matter of getting out. Getting in was relatively easy, and that was definitely saying something, considering that they had to make their way past the stormtroopers – which was sabotaged, to say the least, by the matter of Han deciding to be less than subtle and just shoot, as well as other factors – and then towards the cell block. But getting out was worse. It was almost as if every stormtrooper out there was alerted to their presence and thus, was trying to kill them.  
“Have you ever done this before?” Ada said. She was a pretty young woman, with copper hair.

“This is my first attempt,” Mara said. “Our first attempt at least.” She ducked behind a wall, drawing her blaster if only to shoot the stormtroopers who were attacking, along with Han. “I just hope our future rescue attempts go as well.”

“No offense,” Ada said, “But me too.”

It was later that they met up with Han and Chewbacca, who were heading out of the turbolift door. To say that the turbolift was busted was putting it mildly – it seemed to be a mess of durasteel and flame and smoke.

“Well,” Han said, “Looks like our only escape route’s just been cut off.”

“I can see that,” Mara said. She picked up her comlink. “Threepio,” she said, “Are there any other ways out?”

Threepio answered, but even his answer seemed to be almost jumbled.

“Can you repeat that?” Mara shouted over the din. “I didn’t copy.”

“I said all systems have been alerted to your presence, ma’am! The main entrance seems to be the only way in or out.”

Mara sighed, rubbed her forehead. “Gods damn it…”

“Look,” Han said, “It’s going to be all right. I promise.”

Unfortunately, Han’s promise seemed to be almost negated by the additional arrival in store for them. Because at the end of the hallway, even through the mess of stormtroopers, came Darth Terminus himself, a dark, towering figure against the mass of white. And the way he looked at them, so very cold, a dark sort of shape against the pale armor of the stormtroopers, was enough to chill Mara to the bones.

Han didn’t seem to waste any time. He started shooting at Terminus, but Terminus seemed to deflect his blaster bolts almost as if they were nothing more than annoying bugs. They bounced off his red lightsaber, which shone in the dim light of the hallway. Mara turned towards Han. “It’s no use, Han, just _trust_ me. The blaster’s not going to work.”

“Right,” Han said. Even at the end of the hallway, Terminus seemed to be advancing towards them, not necessarily with any sort of anger, but almost as if he was gesturing towards Mara. Asking her to come with him.

_No. No chance._

Mara looked frantically around. There had to be some sort of escape route. Somewhere, anywhere…

It was looking around towards a small grate in the wall that she finally found their way out. An idea started to form, and she shot at it. The smell was terrible, almost like a bizarre mixture of blaster fire and whatever trash the Empire was keeping in there, but there was really no other choice. They were going inside that trash compactor or they were going to die. The choice, really, was theirs.

“Come on,” Mara said to the others. “Get in there.”

Chewbacca groaned if only in protest.

“Yes, I know,” Mara said, “But it’s either that or dying.”

And she jumped inside.

The inside of the garbage chute was almost damp and messy and filthy and foul-smelling. Even wading through the garbage – because it wasn’t walking, really, Mara thought, but wading; she felt almost so submerged in whatever the Imps threw down there that it felt almost like she was literally about to drown in there – trying to find the exit…

Mara was already working at it, even as Ben, Leia, Han, Chewbacca, and the others landed in there as well, but unfortunately, it was magnetically sealed. She sighed. “All right,” she said, “I really don’t have any clue what I’m doing.”

“No stang,” Han said, heavy sarcasm in his voice. “The garbage chute was a _wonderful_ idea. What an incredible smell you’ve discovered!”

“Sarcasm’s not going to get you anywhere,” Ben said, if only calmly. “And will you not yell at her? She did the best she could, considering the circumstances.”

Mara turned towards Ben, smiled if only a bit. “Thanks,” she said, finally. She took a deep breath. “Listen, Han,” she said, “No matter what happens, no matter how bad things get, we are _not_ going to panic – ’’

It was then that a sort of howl echoed through the garbage chute. It wasn’t a sound that sounded human, really, and it didn’t sound like any sort of sound that Mara had heard either. If nothing else, it sounded almost like something from the Corellian hells themselves. Chewbacca, meanwhile, made sounds of unease.

Mara sighed. “All right,” she said, “Even if there’s valid reason to panic, we’re not going to panic.”

“That’s good advice,” Han said, if only semi-sarcastically. “Don’t panic.” He sighed. “It sure as hell isn’t going to do us any good while we’re stuck here.”

***  
The matter of switching off the tractor beam was, almost, Padme thought, a bit too easy. Even edging onto the ledge along with Vader, she felt, almost, like she used to do with Obi-Wan, on some of their infiltration missions. Logging into the console, helping to switch off the tractor beam. Even slipping past the troopers was easy, because even in between the chatter and the occasional, “What’s going on?” the troopers didn’t seem to really notice them. By the time they made it to the opposite hallway, Padme wiped her brow, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness that they didn’t find us,” she said.

Vader, meanwhile, seemed almost tense, not so certain.

“What is it?” Padme said. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think it’s over yet,” Vader said. “Terminus isn’t after us. Not necessarily.” He took a deep breath. “I can feel it. He’s heading towards the garbage chute.”

“Why the garbage chute? He can’t – ’’

It was then that Padme felt a sudden stabbing sensation through the Force. Almost, she thought, as if someone had forced a vibroblade through her forehead. She rubbed it, suddenly very terrified – Mara and the others were in danger.

“We have to go find them,” she said, “Sabe and the others as well. Come on.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Vader said.

And they headed out, towards the garbage chute. Padme could only pray that they could get there in time, and save Mara and the others from the terrible fate that no doubt awaited them.

***

To say that things had gone from bad to worse was an understatement.

No sooner had the creature in the garbage disposal finally let go of Mara, allowing her, at least, to have some sort of relief from struggling against it, did the walls start moving. And not just slowly either. It felt, if nothing else, almost as if they were squeezing her body – squeezing it tighter and tighter – and despite how she and the others braced metal poles up against the walls, they seemed determined to squeeze them tighter.

“Well, there’s one thing that’s for sure,” Han said. “We’re all going to be a whole lot thinner.”

Mara couldn’t even argue with him in that moment. Instead, she frantically dialed the comlink. At the very least, if she could reach Threepio and the others…

“Elizabeth!” she shouted over the din of the walls continuing to cave in. “Threepio! Can you hear me?”

No answer.

“Gods dammit…” Mara rubbed her forehead. _All right. Calm down. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay._ It was a lie, of course, but at the very least, if she could find a way to at least keep calm somewhat…

She continued pressing metal poles against the wall, anything in the garbage disposal that she could find, if only to keep the walls from pressing any closer. Even if they were about to die, they weren’t going to stand there cowering and crying while the walls continued pressing against them. Next to her, she could see Ben, Leia, Chewbacca, Han, and the crew of the _Tantive IV_ doing their best as well.

Still, it wouldn’t be enough.

_Threepio, buddy,_ she thought, _You better pick up that comlink quickly…_

It was after a long, seemingly agonizing wait that Mara’s comlink buzzed. She picked it up. “Where were you?” she said.

“I’m very sorry, ma’am.” Threepio’s voice sounded almost indistinct over their connection. “We ran into a bit of…trouble.”

Mara sighed. “Right,” she said, “Sorry. I…we’re in kind of a jam. Can Artoo find a way to shut down the garbage disposal?”

“What are you doing in there?”

Mara rubbed her forehead. “Long story short, Terminus found us and we had to hide. You should probably hurry. The walls – we’re trying to hold them, but I doubt we can do it for long.”

A series of questioning beeps over the comlink this time. Artoo.

“He’s wondering if you mean all of them, ma’am.”

“Yes,” Mara said, “All of them. Just to be sure.”

Silence reigned if only for a long time – well, if one counted the grinding of the garbage disposal walls, at the very least.

“You think he can do it?” Ada, this time.

Mara ran a hand wearily through her hair. “I hope he will,” she said. “I just hope.”

***

If there was one of many things that R2-D2 was made for, it was performing miracles. He had done it plenty of times in the past – repairing hyperdrives, repairing ships just in time, hacking into computers just in time if only to save the day. It was who he was, in the end. What he was. He supposed that being in Padme’s company definitely helped – together, they had had so many adventures. He was, really, no stranger to the act of performing a miracle.

He could already sense Threepio’s anxiety – the protocol droid was always anxious, granted, but he was anxious here especially – and Sabe, Owen and Beru’s fear. It was a fear he was all too familiar with. It was the sort of fear that he had seen with Obi-Wan and Padme in regards to Ahsoka Tano. The young Togruta Padawan that they had that they had seen as their own child.

He had been quite fond of Ahsoka as well. True, they hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts – with her deciding to call him “Ar-Too-ey” for some reason he could never truly comprehend. But he had grown fond of her nonetheless. She had been the heart of the team. The one who, in times of moral uncertainty, was more than willing to persuade them back on the path of doing the right thing. She didn’t always succeed – it had been one thing he had worried about with his two masters (because in a sense, Obi-Wan was almost his master as well), the matter of them somehow going down a path that they would never have gone down normally. A path that, simply, wasn’t who they were – but most of the time, she had been the heart of the team. The one that helped them, the one that had kept them together. After Ahsoka had died, there had been no one to stop his two masters, but Obi-Wan especially. Too many children had died, really – too many innocent children, people who had died senselessly, needlessly, and in great pain.

Mara would not be one of these children. Neither would those with her.

So even as Artoo hacked into the computers if only to shut down the garbage disposal, one purpose, one directive, was prominent in him. One purpose, one directive, ruling over all.

_Sabe’s children will not die here tonight. Neither will their companions._ No matter what happened, he would shut down the garbage mashers on the detention level, all of them. He would save the day. He would make it all right.

And even that…that made it all easy.

Then again, Artoo thought, when wasn’t it easy?

***  
Mara was almost ready to give up, to accept her fate – they had tried so hard. They had done their best if only to try and brace the walls, stop the walls from caving in, but even that…that couldn’t last forever. Even though there was something in her that could not help but be angered at this (it wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. That they had to die here, to die this way – when finally, the garbage mashers stopped. Even hearing that sound, that wonderful sound of them just coming to a halt…

Mara squeezed her eyes shut in relief, pressing a fist over her chest if only to calm herself. Already, she was terrified, so very terrified at nearly dying, and yet so very much relieved.

From over the comlink, she heard Threepio’s voice, distressed, so very distressed. “Curse my metal body! I wasn’t fast enough to save them. My poor mistress…”

“Threepio,” Mara said, “I’m okay. We’re all okay.”

And even saying that out loud, she couldn’t help but grin, turn towards Han, and throw her arms around him. Han seemed almost surprised, before returning the hug. All around her, she could see the others laughing if only in relief, hugging the other, and she grinned. They’d made it. They’d all made it.

“Oh thank the maker.” Threepio’s voice sounded so very relieved in that moment that Mara could swear she felt something wet prickling her eyes.

“Mara.” Owen’s voice. “Thank goodness that you’re okay. I…” He took a deep breath. “I thought that I lost you.”

“I’m _here_ ,” Mara said. “I’m all right. Just trust me on this.” She took a deep breath. “Did you run into any trouble…coming down here?”

“We did.” Elizabeth Nerus this time. “But Threepio…he was excellent. He actually managed to con his way past a bunch of stormtroopers.”

“There’s really no need to praise me, Mistress Elizabeth…” Threepio said.

“Oh, come on,” Elizabeth said. “You were amazing.”

Silence.

“Mistress – I never – I never thought – ’’ Threepio seemed, truly, at a loss for words.

Mara smiled. “Threepio,” she said, “You’ve done great. Artoo also. We just have one last favor to ask you. Can you open the pressure maintenance hatch on unit number…” She tilted her head if only to read it slightly better. “Three-two-six-eight-two-seven? Yeah, can you open the pressure maintenance hatch on unit number 326827?”

“Gladly, ma’am.”

Moments later, the pressure maintenance hatch was opened. Mara brushed her hair away from her eyes. “Threepio, Artoo,” she said, “You’re amazing.”

“There’s really no need to thank us, Mistress Mara. We’re just doing our jobs.”

“You might be,” Mara said, even as they climbed out of the chute, “But you’re doing them beautifully.”

***

She was here. Terminus could feel it, so very keenly, in the Force. The same, bright sort of presence that he had felt on Tatooine. His daughter’s presence. And the presence of others as well – the crew of the _Tantive IV_ , Ben and Leia Organa, and so many others. People who, more than anything, needed to be stopped, if only for the good of the galaxy.

Long ago, he would have said for the good of the Empire. But even “the good of the Empire” didn’t seem to be right anymore. If he could only find a way to find Mara…

He had found her. She was already coming out of the garbage chute. He supposed that he had to give her some credit if only for that act of cleverness. He almost didn’t expect it of her. Then again, her mother had always been clever. He supposed that was one of many traits that he was glad that she had inherited from her mother. Clever, kind, gentle Sabe…

Even thinking about it was enough to hurt all over again. He had lost so much in the Clone Wars, and before it, and after it. It felt almost as if the Clone Wars themselves were a wound that had made its way through his life, taking everything away from him. Taking away Qui-Gon, for example, taking away Jedi that he had sparred with and joked with and laughed with and bickered with and confided in at so many times. Taking away Ahsoka, and Padme, and Sabe, and so many others. His daughter, most of all. What a life they could haveknown if not for the Clone Wars.

Before Sabe, he had never thought that he would leave the Jedi Order. If one had asked his younger self if he ever intended on leaving the Jedi Order, he would have thought it to be ludicrous. The Jedi Order was his life, the Jedi Order was his home, the Jedi Order was his family. It was the only family, at least before Sabe and Mara, that he had ever truly known.

So many things, taken from him. And it hadn’t stopped there. He’d had to kill so many of his friends, people that he had once fought alongside in the Clone Wars. He had thought that turning against Mace Windu when the latter tried to assassinate the Chancellor was the worst he could do. He had thought that turning against the Order itself, killing almost all of them including the younglings, was the worst that he could do. But the process of killing the Jedi who had escaped, as well as the matter of Vader turning on him…  
He had lost too many people he had cared about. Now, he thought – now was the time to make it all right. It was meant to be made right. He had done so much wrong in his lifetime, in his career as a Jedi as well as his career as a Sith, that at the very least, if he could make it all right –

She was there. Coming up the hallway, talking with the others. The smuggler, Han Solo – one of many people who were enemies of the Empire – arguing with her about where to go now, and her trying to tell him, at the very least, no matter what happened, to just do what she said. If Terminus could smile underneath his helmet, he would. Because if nothing else, she sounded so much like him, back when he had fought in the Clone Wars. She wasn’t so different from him, really. And something about that, even in spite of it all, managed to send a feeling of warmth through Terminus’ chest that he almost wasn’t expecting.

It was then that she paused. He was still in the shadows, watching her, observing her and the others.

“What is it?” Leia, this time.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Mara said, “But I have a very bad feeling about this.”

“We’ve just gotten out of the garbage chute,” Ben said. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

“I don’t know,” Mara said. “I think it’s best that you be on your guard, really. All of you.”

Terminus watched even as they approached. There was something about them, he thought, that almost reminded him of back when he fought in the Clone Wars as well – the friendships that he had made along the way, even those with people that one wouldn’t really, truly expect to become friends with. If there was one thing about the Clone Wars that wasn’t terrible, it was the friendships and the alliances that one made along the way. Watching others grow stronger as well, becoming more than you could have ever imagined them of being capable of, and knowing, in some cases, that you helped them. He still remembered the matter of the Onderon mission, trying to free Onderon from the Separatists’ clutches, and training Steela and the others. Steela had died, and for all the grief it had caused them all, for all the fact that she didn’t need to die, if there was any sort of solace in any of this it was the fact that, simply, she had died with honor. She had died bravely, and without fear. She had died doing the right thing. And that was the best consolation that he had had – although as the needless deaths continued, the deaths that didn’t need to happen, the deaths that were cruel and needless and so very, for all Obi-Wan had tried to avoid thinking that word or using that word considering how un-Jedi-like it truly was, unfair, even that consolation had worn thin. All those deaths and all those nightmares. At the very least, he could not walk the white current and undo everything that had happened, but he could at least begin to make things right again. Make sure that this didn’t happen again.

And Mara, he thought, was definitely a good place to start with that.

It was in that moment that he emerged from the shadows. Mara looked up at him now, a sort of fear in her eyes though she quickly steeled herself, drew her lightsaber. Han now shot at him, as did Leia Organa and the others, but Terminus managed to at least deflect those blaster bolts with ease. He then reached through the Force, snatching each of them from their hands. He then turned back to Mara, who looked up at him with a sort of determination that was so very Sabe that even though they were in a currently less-than-desirable position (and that was putting it mildly. He never wanted this to happen, any of this) he couldn’t help but feel a certain sort of warmth spreading through him again.

_My dear girl. Our beautiful daughter. Determined to the last._

“Hello, Mara,” he said.


	19. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padme and Terminus, after so many years, meet up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Really loved this chapter. Especially the dynamics between Padme and Terminus, as well as...well, other things. Also, yet another twist that set the story in a new direction.

The main problem with getting to Mara and the others, Padme thought, was the matter of getting past the stormtroopers. Not necessarily because of the fact that, really, they couldn’t fight them – already, Padme knew that that wasn’t the case. She’d already had to do something like that in the past, during Order 66, being able to at least push the clone troopers out of the way if she could, and kill them if she absolutely had to. But if nothing else, they seemed to be coming at them almost in some sort of swarm. No matter how many Padme and Vader took down, more seemed to take their place. Padme could already feel a rising sense of despair in her even though, if nothing else, she tried to hide it. She couldn’t afford to despair. Not now. It was then that she saw Terminus.  
  
 _Terminus_. Locked again in a duel with Mara. Padme didn’t want to think of what had just happened previously if only to lead to this. But nonetheless, she had to at least find some way to put a stop to this.  
  
“Obi-Wan,” she said. She knew, in a way, that it was no doubt stretching, to remind Terminus of a title that he would most likely be trying to bury, but she had to find a way to save him. To help him. To at least save Mara. “Obi-Wan, step away from her.”  
  
Terminus turned to look at her now, a sort of puzzlement radiating from him. And it was then that Padme knew. _Why are you trying to prevent me from seeing my daughter? From trying to convert her to my side?_  
  
Except, really, it wasn’t the case. Terminus had already done enough terrible things. He couldn’t be allowed to do any more.  
  
“Obi-Wan,” Padme said, “Just…it’s not her fault. If there’s anyone who’s at fault here, it’s me. I failed to save you.” She swallowed; even remembering what happened at Sullust was enough to hurt more than anything else, and yet she had to at least acknowledge the truth. No matter how painful it truly was. “It’s not her fault.”  
  
“Who said it was?” Terminus’ voice – if not for the sudden deepening of it thanks to the vocoder, thanks to the other mechanical enhancements that Sidious had no doubt given him to make up for when Padme had all but mutilated him – and other mutilations that had followed. Terminus had taken many injuries in battle, she had heard – it would have almost sounded, just for a moment, like Obi-Wan’s. Obi-Wan’s, back when he was making some sort of wry observation. Even that reminder was enough to make Padme’s heart ache.  
  
“Obi-Wan?” Mara sounded confused, and more than that, almost angry. “What do you mean? Lady Nemo, what do you mean?”  
  
Padme almost wished that she could answer. And yet there was something in her that almost couldn’t. _Don’t tell her. You can’t tell her. It will only break her heart…_  
  
 _And what will break her heart further if not the fact that you lied to her?_  
  
It was looking from Terminus to Padme that Mara seemed to at least somewhat put it together. “You can’t possibly be…” She laughed, but it was a despairing thing. “You can’t be Obi-Wan Kenobi. It’s…Lady Nemo _said_ …”  
  
“I know,” Padme said if only softly. “But I’m sorry, Mara. He is…he is Obi-Wan Kenobi.”  
  
The look on Mara’s face was enough to all but break Padme’s heart. That sheer look of shock, of outrage, and more than that, grief…it was enough to almost wish that she hadn’t had to lie to Mara. But what else could she do, in the end, if only to protect Mara from Terminus?  
  
 _Some protecting you did,_ she thought.  
  
Padme turned towards Terminus. “Let her go,” she said. “Let them all go. They’ve done nothing to you.”  
  
“It’s not the matter of them doing anything to me.” A beat. “Mara…more than anything, she deserves a father. Someone to protect her. A proper upbringing.”  
  
“But at what cost?” Padme could already feel her throat all but seize up in that moment. She almost couldn’t speak. “She doesn’t deserve something like this. She’s just a girl. She can’t…”  
  
And even the thought of Mara being trained in the Sith arts was almost too terrible, too heartbreaking, to imagine. He would treat his own daughter, someone he proclaimed to love – never mind that after all these years, she didn’t know if there was still love in him. Even the matter of sparing her at Sullust she was almost uncertain of, at least in the back of her mind – terribly. He would teach her how to kill, how to manipulate – so many things that she was not meant for. So many things that no one was truly meant for, but Mara especially. To think that Terminus would do this to his own daughter, no doubt in the name of whatever “greater good” he was already imagining…  
  
Padme couldn’t imagine it. And it terrified her more than anything else that Terminus could truly do. Because the very thought that he could do something like this to his own daughter – the very idea –  
  
She couldn’t bear to think about it. Because if Terminus thought of his own daughter as nothing more than a pawn to be used against Sidious, then it was a sign that he was well and truly gone.  
  
***  
  
The way that Padme was talking with him, Terminus thought, one would think that she thought that he had crossed some sort of point of no return. Some sort of line where even the light side could not save him now. But why, exactly?  
  
Mara wasn’t made to be a Sith. At least, that was what Padme was thinking. But really, she wasn’t made for whatever destiny had been laid out for her on Tatooine either. The life of a farmer. The life of someone who woke up day after day, tending the moisture farm, yearning for something more. That and there was so much in her that could be used if only for good. To do what Sidious had promised to do but hadn’t. To heal the galaxy again. The galaxy had gone through so much hardship over the years. If they could at the very least find a way to make it right again, and if they could at the very least find a way to reunite their family again, just as they were meant to be…  
  
To make things right again, Terminus thought, he knew full well that he would do just about anything.  
  
It was in that moment that Padme turned towards Mara. “Run. I’ll be right behind you.”  
  
“No chance,” Mara said. “I’m not leaving you.”  
  
And there was something in Terminus that, if he could, would have smiled. So much devotion in her. She truly was her mother’s daughter.  
  
And then there was something in him that could not help but falter. So much devotion, so much determination. So very much the hint of everything he could have been. Already, he couldn’t help but feel a flare of resentment towards his daughter –  
  
 _No_. Such traits were to be admired, not resented. For all his faults, Darth Terminus was not a petty man.  
  
Padme now placed a hand on Mara’s shoulder. “Mara,” she said, “Do it if only for the others. For all their sakes.”  
  
Silence.  
  
 _For all their sakes._ It had been something that Terminus had tried to impart to Padme for so many years. For the greater good. And something they had tried to impart to Ahsoka, at first with less success – Ahsoka had always been hot-blooded, insisting on all but saving everyone. But even she, after a while, had learned what it had truly meant. Even after all these years, Terminus almost hadn’t thought that it would come back if only to haunt him.  
  
Still, wasn’t that what he was doing in the end? Doing what he could if only for the good of others? For a better galaxy? Was that so terrible in the end?  
  
He could still remember what Master Yoda had once told him. _Even those with the best intentions, corrupted they may be_. And in spite of himself, he couldn’t help but wonder…was that what was happening to him? Could it be -- ?  
  
 _No_. He was nothing like Maul. He was nothing like Dooku, or the others. They were weak, and they had paid accordingly for their weakness. They were nothing alike.  
  
Mara merely nodded, before turning towards Han and the others. The smuggler looked all but confused at what had transpired, but Mara said, “We’ll talk when we’re out of here. Come on, Han.”  
  
After a while, Han merely nodded and followed her, along with the others. Terminus turned back towards his former apprentice. “You won’t be able to keep her from me forever,” he said.  
  
“And you won’t be able to have her,” Padme said, if only calmly. A beat. “You won’t be able to convert her. She has a stronger will than even you ever had.” A beat. “Only the weak embrace the Dark Side. It takes strength to resist it.”  
  
His own words. What he had said to Maul so very long ago if only to defy him, to rage against fate itself, the Dark Side itself. Now, even hearing them, he could feel the old anger welling up inside him, the desire to, plain and simply, inflict as much pain upon his own apprentice as he could, even as he tried to restrain himself. _She’s trying to upset you. She’s trying to distract you._ It had to be the case, really.  
  
He didn’t want to hurt Padme, not really. And yet, if he had no choice…  
  
He drew his lightsaber, ignited it. “We’ll settle this as it was meant to be settled,” he said. “Like civilized beings.” A beat. “Are you afraid to die, Padme?” He almost wanted to know. He didn’t want to kill her, and yet if he didn’t have a choice in the matter…  
  
Padme drew her lightsaber, but there was a sort of sadness in her eyes. A sort of sadness, Terminus thought, that seemed to reflect how she had lost someone she had considered dear to her. And for a moment, Terminus almost wanted to hesitate, to stop the duel, but he knew more than anything that though he almost didn’t want to admit it, Padme was a threat if only to the galaxy he wanted to create. A better galaxy. A threat to their family, in a way. If he had to fight her, he would.  
  
And her words rang out almost like the toll of a requiem. “Are you?”  
  
***  
  
The matter of getting out of there was almost easy. Almost, Mara thought, even as they got to the hangar. She didn’t like the idea of leaving Lady Nemo behind, even though, really, it was for the greater good. At least in a way. She couldn’t see what good there was, really, in leaving Lady Nemo behind to Terminus’  “mercy”, if you could really call it that. It was getting to the hangar where the _Millennium Falcon_ was that Mara almost breathed a sigh of relief. They were here. After all this time, they were there. _Thank the gods._  
  
She took out her comlink now. “Elizabeth Nerus,” she said, “Threepio – do you copy?”  
  
“For the moment,” Elizabeth Nerus said. “We’re in the main hangar across from the ship.”  
  
“Thank goodness that you’re okay,” Mara said.  
  
“You also. What about…what about Lady Nemo?” Elizabeth Nerus’ voice was almost tight with anxiety.  
  
“She’ll be on her way,” Mara said. “She…she’s just holding Terminus back. We kind of ran into him.”  
  
Elizabeth Nerus took a deep breath. She seemed, at least to Mara’s ears, almost like she was trying to at least convince herself that what Mara was saying was true, that really, Lady Nemo was going to be all right. “You’d best hurry.”  
  
“That’s the plan,” Mara said.  
  
Ada, meanwhile, turned to Han if only in disbelief. “You came in that thing? You’re braver than I thought.”  
  
Han rolled his eyes. “Nice. Come on!”  
  
“He’s right,” Mara said. “We can argue later. Now come on, let’s get going.”  
  
It was then that they rounded the corner, at least attempting to stay out of sight, before the troopers saw them and began blasting. It was just in time that Mara managed to at least dodge the blasts, as well as fire back at the troopers. Han then turned towards her. “Let me take it from there,” he said, “You get them to the ship.”  
  
“Han,” Mara said, almost amazed, “Are you insane?”  
  
Han grinned. “Comes with the territory, sweetheart. Now come on!”  
  
Mara turned towards Ada and the others, and they ran for it.  
  
***  
  
Padme had fought her old master before on Sullust. She didn’t think that she would, once again, face him, at least like this – she supposed that it was a testament to how times changed. Long ago, they wouldn’t have thought that they would become enemies. She could still remember what she had said to him, long before Ahsoka had died, when something like Ahsoka dying was just a nightmare, and the idea of the Empire rising was, to say the least, almost unthinkable. _We’ll always be all right, you and me_ and _They’d have to work really hard to separate us._  
  
Except now, at least in a sense, they were separated. And more than that, they were dueling again. She managed to at least repel Terminus’ blows well, as well as put in some defensive moves of her own, but whatever Terminus was learning – he was strong, Padme could not help but think. Very strong. She didn’t think that he would get that strong in her absence. And yet here he was.  
  
Then again, Terminus was always learning. Every Force user was always learning. Even with what Qui-Gon had taught her, Padme thought, she suspected that it was just the tip of the iceberg in regards to Force techniques.  
  
She reached into the Force towards Mara and the others. She could feel Mara’s anxiety, as well as the others’ – Vader’s guilt at leaving her behind. _Don’t be afraid_ , she told them. _You’re doing the right thing. Believe me on this._  
  
 _We’re in trouble._ Mara, this time. _They’re blasting at us –_  
  
 _Use the bridge controls._  
  
 _Right. Gotcha. Thanks._  
  
 _Just keep going._ Even in between the strokes of Terminus’ lightsaber, Padme continued reaching towards Mara and the others. _Just get to the ship. I’ll be there soon, I promise._  
  
 _I certainly hope so._  
  
“You believe that you can protect them for long?” Terminus’ voice was smooth, soft, almost emotionless. Or it would be, at the very least, if it wasn’t for the fact that Padme swore that something honestly trembled behind it.  
  
“Yes,” Padme said.  
  
“You would die to protect them?”  
  
“Wouldn’t you?” Padme said. “You were a good man, Terminus. You still are, in a way. You don’t have to keep doing what you’re doing.”  
  
“What do you think I’m doing?” Terminus’ lightsaber met Padme’s again. “I’m trying to do what’s right.”  
  
“But this isn’t the way,” Padme said. “Killing all these people. Burning all these planets. Do you really think that that’s the right thing to do?”  
  
“That was not my design.”  
  
“Not all of it.” Their lightsabers clashed again. “But this is wrong, Terminus. I don’t…it doesn’t matter whatever reasons you’ve presented. All of this is wrong.”  
  
Silver and red continued to clash. Padme was almost reminded, at least almost, of their old sparring sessions, when Obi-Wan was first teaching her to use a lightsaber, but this, really – this wasn’t the matter of teaching. It was a whole mix of emotions – anger and grief and rage and hatred and love all mixed in one.  
  
The Echani had it as part of their philosophy that in battle, one’s true emotions and intentions were revealed. That in battle, all words were swept away, to be replaced with actions and emotions alone. Padme supposed that in a sense, it was true here. Because words were all but inconsequential in that moment. All that really mattered was the matter of actions, and emotions – all of this suppressed grief and confusion and anger that she had kept inside. And yet there was also the matter of love – because Terminus had been a good man once, even though he had forgotten.  
  
Silver. Red. Silver. Red. And as they dueled, Padme reached into the Force itself, letting it all simply go. Letting all of the rage leave at least for the moment, the grief, the pain – letting it flow into the Force, letting the Force itself guide her actions. She could only pray, in the end, that she was making the right decision. And it was then that she knocked Terminus to the ground. The Sith Lord was not quite human, not really, so his groans of pain sounded more mechanical than anything else, and yet even to Padme’s ears, at least in that moment, they sounded far too painfully human. She drew her lightsaber away now, looking down at the Sith Lord’s prone form, before deactivating her lightsaber, hooking it to her belt.  
  
“Obi-Wan,” she said, if only softly, “It doesn’t have to end this way. Believe me on this.”  
  
Terminus stumbled to his feet now. “Why did you take my daughter from me?”  
  
“I didn’t _want_ to.” And that was the truth. If there had been a way, Padme thought, she would have had Mara – and Ben – raised with their mother, as it was meant to be. Perhaps found a way to help Terminus if only so he could raise them as well. And yet there was no other way, if only to hide them from the Empire. They couldn’t suffer their father’s fate. They couldn’t become Sith. And they couldn’t end up like the other Force Sensitives, the other Jedi, and whatnot that the Empire had all but hunted to extinction. “I wanted her safe,” she said.  
  
“And your son.”  
  
“Son?” Terminus’ voice, at least to Padme’s ears, sounded almost like thunder.  
  
“I didn’t want to keep any of this from you,” Padme said, “But I had no choice.”  
  
“There’s always a choice.”  
  
“Not in this case. I swore to protect them,” Padme said, “Even if it meant from you.”  
  
It was an almost terrible thing to think about, having to protect Ben and Mara from their own father. And yet it was the truth. Their father – he would most likely either kill or torture them into conversion, not necessarily save them. It wasn’t that Terminus was a cruel man – at least, compared to the Emperor and Grand Moff Tarkin who destroyed for the sake of destruction, he was far from the worst evil that the Empire had to offer – but he was blinded. And to think of Mara and Ben both suffering the consequences of that blindness…  
Padme doubted that she had ever felt that much honest rage from Terminus. Even during the Clone Wars when they had heard reports of Maul’s return, she doubted that she had ever felt him that angry. Even on Sullust, she couldn’t say that she had felt him that angry. Still, she thought, it wasn’t as if it were unjustified.  
  
“It doesn’t have to end this way,” she said. “Come with me. Come with us. You can see Sabe, Mara and Ben again. Please.” _Please_ , she thought, _come away with us. It doesn’t have to end this way. It_ can’t _end this way – please –_  
  
Silence.  
  
“I’m sorry, Padme,” Terminus said. “But I doubt that’s possible.”  
  
And the duel resumed in that moment, silver clashing against red, even as Padme felt the grief coming to her eyes again. Pure emotion, flooding into her eyes, grief and guilt and anger and yet, even amidst that, love for the man that Terminus had been, though not the man that he had now become.  
  
***  
  
It was later that Mara and the others ran into Han and Chewbacca again. Mara was almost about to ignite her lightsaber, fearing that it was stormtroopers again from the sound of the footsteps, only for Han to say, “No need to panic! It’s just us.”  
  
Mara lowered her lightsaber, sighed in relief. “What kept you?”  
  
“Let’s say that holding off the stormtroopers took a little longer than we thought. You?”  
  
“We took a wrong turn,” Mara said. “We should probably get to the _Falcon_.”  
  
“And hope that Kitster and Lady Nemo got that tractor beam out of commission,” Han said, “Or it’s going to be the shortest trip we ever had.”  
  
“We already got the tractor beam out of commission,” Vader said. “There’s no need to worry.”  
  
“Well, that’s good. Now we just have to get the others, and we’ll be on our way.”  
  
It was in that moment that Sabe, Owen, Beru and the droids emerged. Mara sighed in relief, before running towards Owen and Beru, throwing her arms quickly around the both of them. “Thank the gods you’re both all right,” she managed to say.  
  
“You too, kiddo.” Owen looked her up and down. “You look like hell. What were you doing?”  
  
“Garbage chute, remember?” Mara said. “That and…well, I ran into Terminus. Lady Nemo’s in trouble; we have to go get her.”  
  
“Yes,” Vader said. “We should.” There was a sort of solemn quality in his face in that moment. “We can’t simply abandon her.”  
  
“I wasn’t planning to,” Owen said. He sighed. “Don’t know how good a blaster’s going to work against Terminus. For all intents and purposes, it’s going to be like taking down a rancor with nothing but stones.”  
  
Vader looked at Owen if only in curiosity. “Why would you even want to do that?”  
  
“It’s a metaphor,” Owen said. “Come on. Let’s go and find her.”  
  
Mara knew that she couldn’t disagree with that. After all, if they failed to save Lady Nemo, if they at the very least even faltered a moment in terms of finding her –  
  
“Follow me,” she said.  
  
And they headed towards the distant hallways of the Death Star, just across the hangar bay, where Lady Nemo and Terminus dueled.


	20. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people's futures take another unexpected turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was another favorite chapter of mine to write, especially the bit with Padme, Terminus and Vader in the Millennium Falcon. I just thought it was a lovely scene.

If there was anything that Padme had learned if only from her Jedi schooling, something that she knew more than anything, it was the fact that a Jedi’s life was sacrifice. At the very least, if it wasn’t “more than anything”, it was something that was one of the most important things that a Jedi could ever possibly learn. To not think of oneself, or one’s selfish attachments, but to think of the greater good, the Living Force, and how one could best humbly serve it. It had been something that she had tried to do, time and time again. She could not say how much she succeeded, but she liked to think that at the very least, she did, at least most of the time.  
  
And dueling Terminus, her former master, there was something in the back of her mind that said that for how long she survived, she might not survive this duel.  
  
 _No._ She had to survive. If only for Mara and Ben’s sake. She had to keep fighting. No matter how hopeless the obstacles seemed. No matter how terrible it truly was. No matter what happened. She was already wavering even as she continued striking against Terminus, and Terminus seemed to have learned more skills since they had last fought, his powers doubled, but no matter what happened, she was stronger. She was giving him everything that she got. Every Force power that she had – because for all Terminus’ doubled power, there were still quite a few skills that he couldn’t use. Skills limited by the use of his armor. The armor – it seemed more of a prison for a living body than anything else. She could not picture anyone living in such agony, day by day. Because she could feel it. The mechanical parts of the armor, trying so hard if only to compensate for the damaged organs – and to think that she had done this, that it was _her_ fault –  
  
“Terminus… _Obi-Wan_ – ’’  
  
“You’re mistaken. That is not my name.” Terminus’ voice was perfectly calm. Too calm, Padme thought. Almost as if he was stating a fact about a distant planet when she was still a Padawan, curious and wide-eyed (“wide-eyed wonder child”, Sola had teasingly nicknamed her) about the galaxy and the wonders that it still contained. Back when they were still innocent, in a sense. He continued on now, his voice like the toll of a requiem. “That man died long ago on Sullust.”  
  
“He’s not dead.” Padme knew full well that he was not going to listen. When her Master was especially certain about something, it was hard, at times, to get him to change his mind. And in this case… “He’s still in there. Fighting for justice. You just don’t realize that he’s _there_. But no matter what’s happened to you, no matter what anguish that I’ve caused you…he’s not gone.”  
  
Terminus seemed still in that moment. If Padme didn’t know better, she would say that he was almost moved. At the very least, she could still feel it in the Force. And a flicker of light across the eyes of his mask – how strangely they seemed to almost mimic human eyes, Padme thought. The Emperor and his men had constructed that mask well. If one was to look closely at it, it seemed to be constructed out of childhood nightmares, and perhaps other nightmares. For eyes that weren’t human, mostly a facsimile – Terminus’ actual eyes were most likely damaged on Sullust. Again, no doubt by her own doing – they were almost painfully expressive without having to resort to the eye expressions of other beings.  
  
“You are too filled with hope,” Terminus said. “You’ve always been.”  
  
“Better to be too filled with hope than to have none.”  
  
It was then that she heard it. Footsteps. Mara and the others, running towards Terminus, weapons drawn. Padme almost wanted to tell them to stop, to put down their weapons, but they weren’t listening in that moment. Because Han had drawn a grenade, and before Padme could so much as stop him, he threw it.  
  
Blinding light seemed to all but pour across Padme’s vision, almost searing. She felt Terminus’ agony even as he was knocked back – agony that seemed to be pouring into her head almost as if she were experiencing it. As if she had been the one who had been hit. She turned towards Han in astonishment, before Han said, “We should get going.”  
  
“I can’t just leave him,” Padme said.  
  
“We really need to get back to the _Falcon_. We were going to get out of here, and that’s what we’re going to do.”  
  
Padme supposed that he was right. More than right. She turned towards Terminus, walked towards him, before hoisting his arm over her shoulders.  
  
Han stared at her in astonishment. “He’ll – ’’  
  
“Han, I know,” Padme said, “But I’m not leaving a wounded opponent for dead.” _I can’t. Not this time._  
  
And as they headed towards the _Falcon_ , Terminus’ arm hoisted over Padme’s shoulder, she knew full well that the trial ahead was going to be fraught with difficulties. More than fraught with difficulties, she thought. But no matter what happened, no matter how terrible things truly were, they were going to get through this. Because, plain and simply, that was what they did.  
  
That and she doubted that she could all but leave Obi-Wan for dead again. She couldn’t.  
  
It was then, even as she hooked Terminus up to the medical bay equipment, even as she heard the sound of Han telling everyone to strap in and Chewie to punch it, she could not help but feel almost frantic in that moment. The medical bay equipment wasn’t bad per se, but she didn’t know how sufficient it would be, truly. After all, whatever the Empire sealed Terminus in was no doubt incredibly complex. _Just tell me what you need, Obi-Wan…_  
  
Terminus was no doubt dying. And if she didn’t act quickly…  
  
Terminus seemed to be straining, almost as if fighting for the vocoder if only to obey him, as if fighting for his own voice to obey him. “Padme…”  
  
“Just hold on,” Padme said. “What do you need?”  
  
“I have suffered worse injuries. There is no need to heal me.”  
  
Padme shook her head. “There isn’t any need to play tough with me,” she said. “Just...how severe is it?”  
  
“I have merely been burned. Nothing that I haven’t survived before.”  
  
Padme bit her lip. “Obi-Wan…I’m sorry.”  
  
“For what happened now? That was the smuggler’s doing. Not yours.” Terminus sounded almost vaguely wondering even as he said, “He is quite a resourceful one. It’s no wonder that he survived this long, I think.”  
  
Padme merely nodded. “He is. But I meant…what I did to you.”  
  
“I told you to run, you ran. You only tried to save Sabe. Hardly a crime.”  
  
“I know,” Padme said. “But even so…”  
  
She placed a hand over his chest, reached through the Force if only to check for the extent of his injuries. He had been lying, of course. Things had simply, honestly, cracked – nothing life-threatening, but in need of healing nonetheless. She then reached through the Force, pouring whatever healing energy she could if only to save Terminus. Because by the gods themselves, she was not failing him again.  
  
And as the healing energy poured from her, healing the wounds that Terminus had suffered if only from the explosive, there was something in Padme that wondered if this was part of something else. Part of them, truly, putting things right again. Or was Terminus right, and she really did have too much hope? Then again, even so, it was better to have too much hope than none at all. With no hope at all, one would truly go mad. At least one could survive on too much hope. One could endure. One could be saved. Without hope, one would suffer, one would wither, one would die. Padme had watched it all but claim Obi-Wan’s spirit, and the spirits of others who had fallen to the Dark Side. She could not suffer the same fate. Despair was of the Dark Side as much as anger, fear and aggression were. Perhaps moreso. Because to despair, to be driven to a point where it seemed as if there was no way out but to become the one thing you feared most, the monster you feared whether as a youngling or a soldier or as anyone else…  
  
Padme turned as she felt Vader’s presence in the doorway. A slight smile, if a sad one, seemed to have come over his face. “Terminus is wrong,” he said, “You’re not too hopeful for your own good.” He became sadder now. “He’s gone so long without hope that I don’t think he really comprehends the idea.”  
  
“I don’t think he ever truly believed in hope,” Padme said. “I know one thing he taught me, when I was a Padawan, was that hope was just as futile as despair.”  
  
“Really?” Vader’s brows seemed to furrow. “But that doesn’t make any sense. At least hope’s a good source of fuel when you’re about to give up.”  
  
“Yeah.” Hope, Padme thought, kept you going when nothing else really could.  
  
Vader sat next to her in that moment. “In truth,” he said, “I never really thought that this would happen.”  
  
“I can’t just leave him,” Padme said. “Not again.” She sighed. “It destroyed me doing it the first time. Doing it again…I would rather die millions of times than to just condemn him to death like that.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“I know.”  
  
Vader reached over towards her, took her hand in that moment, gently squeezing it. There was something, Padme thought, that simply felt nice about it. Gentle, soft.  
  
“I guess the question is,” Vader said, “Where do we go next?”  
  
“Alderaan’s gone,” Padme said. “I think Yavin is our best bet.” She took a deep breath. “If the Empire thought that they would stop the Rebellion by destroying Alderaan, I think they gravely miscalculated.”  
  
“All the better for us then,” Vader said.  
  
Padme smiled if only in spite of herself. “Yeah,” she said. “All the better for freeing the galaxy.”  
  
“I only can’t believe that this happened.” Vader rubbed his temples. “This shouldn’t have happened. No one in their right mind, no one with a common shred of human decency should have let this happen. No one should have stood by and let it happen. No one should have ordered this to happen. We were supposed to be better than this, Padme. Better than the Republic. But we didn’t.” A beat. “And Ventress is still back with the Empire. I promised her one time that we’d be able to at least live some semblance of a normal life.”  
  
Even listening, Padme felt a sudden ache in her heart. _Never say “we’ll live a normal life someday” ever. Or “we’ll be all right”._ In truth, so many instances of that phrase had been crushed that it seemed all but impossible. And yet…  
  
“We’re going to save her,” she said. “I promise.”  
  
“I never doubted you for a second,” Vader said. And Padme could have sworn that looking at him, looking at the smile on his face – his face seemed to be all but lit like the sun itself.  
  
It was then that the _Millennium Falcon_ jerked into hyperspace. Even as the explosion of electric blue surrounded the _Falcon_ , Padme knew that beyond Yavin, beyond destroying the Death Star (it had to be done. Just for the sake of other systems not suffering the same fate as Alderaan), she could not say what the future would bring.  
  
But she knew that whatever happened, they would meet that destiny no matter what.


	21. Arrival At Yavin IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Company Of The Death Star Plans arrives at Yavin IV. (Yes, I had to make another Lord of the Rings joke. I couldn't resist. XD)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was another chapter I really loved writing. Mostly the interactions between Mara and Terminus, Mara and Han, and Vader and Padme. I always like character interaction, really. Also, the twist regarding Terminus turning himself in. That was awesome.

Yavin. Even as they neared the great scarlet planet, Mara looked out the window, unable to conceal her amazement. It was a huge planet, almost majestic in terms of scope, and a sort of deep red that reminded Mara almost of blood, or the light of Terminus’ saber. She tried to not think about it, tried to remind herself that whatever differences – to say the least – that she had with Terminus weren’t important at the moment, and yet at the same time, she could not help but be afraid. What was going to happen to them when they landed on Yavin IV? After all, Terminus was an enemy of the Rebellion. That went without saying. If they landed on Yavin IV, what would the Rebellion think of them basically carrying Terminus in their ship?  
  
Even if they went the other way and decided to basically hail Mara and the others as heroes for capturing Terminus, Mara doubted that Lady Nemo would be happy either. Perhaps considering that she used to be a former apprentice of Terminus’ back when he was still a good guy, she seemed at least overly attached to him. Mara couldn’t say she knew what to think of it. While Lady Nemo was an admirable woman – and she would fight anyone who said otherwise – she couldn’t help but wonder if bringing Terminus onboard the _Falcon_ would be a good idea. Saving a wounded man was all well and good, but what would happen after that?  
  
Mara definitely had a feeling that Lady Nemo hadn’t exactly thought this through beyond “save Terminus, then hope things turn out for the best. Somehow.” Which probably didn’t say good things about them arriving at Yavin.  
  
 _Stop worrying,_ she tried telling herself. _You’ll be fine. After all…what’s the worst that could happen?_  
  
Then again, Mara thought, that was probably the problem. No, that was definitely the problem.  
  
“I’m just going to have to leave the cockpit for a bit,” Mara said. “Just to check on Terminus. Make sure he’s okay.”  
  
Han snorted. “First Lady Nemo, now you. You can’t possibly be feeling sorry for the bastard.”  
  
Mara sighed. “Han, look – I don’t like Terminus being a passenger any more than you do, but at the very least…”  
  
“I was saving Lady Nemo’s life.” Han shook his head. “I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”  
  
“I know, Han,” Mara said. “Still…” She rubbed her temples. “I just need to check on him.”  
  
Han seemed almost hesitant, thoughtful even, before nodding. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll just be up…making sure that the Rebellion doesn’t suddenly start firing at us or something.”  
  
“They _won’t_ , Han,” Mara said. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”  
  
“That’s kind of the problem.”  
  
It was going down towards the medical bay that Mara found Terminus – her father, more precisely. Even taking it in made no sense – sitting up at least somewhat. He seemed to have at least recovered somewhat from the grenade blast. He looked at her now, and Mara fought the urge deep down to avert her eyes. Something about the black eyes of the mask – they were enough to genuinely unsettle her. Someplace that was too much between human and machine. Even looking into those eyes, she couldn’t say which was which.  
Still, she steeled herself. She couldn’t afford to be afraid. “Morning,” she said.  
  
“Good morning.” Terminus’ voice sounded, almost, like it was as old as the Corellian hells themselves. A sort of rumble in it amidst its more metallic edge. “I trust you slept well?”  
  
“Relatively.” Mara sat next to him on the bed. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“Better. I have to commend Padme; I did not expect that she would show kindness, in the end.” Beat. “If she left me behind, it would be disheartening, but not necessarily unreasonable.”  
  
Mara could not help but feel something flare in her chest. “Lady Nemo’s a great woman.”  
  
“I don’t deny that. But she is Jedi. It is in the nature of Jedi and Sith alike to destroy one another.”  
  
 _Sith. So that’s your name._ There had been stories that Mara had heard, whispers from the cantina, from some of the local space pilots that came by, that the reason for Terminus’ saber change was the fact that he had once been a Jedi and he turned it red if only to symbolize that he was evil. She supposed that it was good to have some degree of confirmation on this. “Well, stars,” she said, if only sarcastically. “I do wonder why. It doesn’t have to do with the fact that you destroyed planets.” Her voice became angrier now even as she remembered the pain of it exploding in her head, Ben’s grief, and so much more. “You have no _kriffing_ idea how much pain you caused, do you?”  
  
“I am aware of the pain caused,” Terminus said, his voice almost completely calm (although it was almost hard to tell with the vocoder, Mara thought). “But I never wanted it to happen. I had nothing to do with it.” A beat. “I know that it is small comfort to the survivors, but I never wanted it to happen.”  
  
“Then why didn’t you do anything?” Even if Terminus was completely innocent in this, completely innocent in all of this, why didn’t he even so much as do anything? Why didn’t he speak out against the people who were doing this, those monsters that seemed to if nothing else just want to destroy Alderaan for the sake of – sadism? A misguided sense of keeping the Rebellion in line through theatrical cruelty? Whatever the case, they failed. And they were going to pay the price. Mara had a feeling that would be their best solace in something like this.  
  
“Tarkin,” Terminus said, “Is far stronger than I am. Far higher in rank. The Emperor hired him, so for all intents and purposes, I could do nothing.”  
  
 _Huh_. Mara supposed that she didn’t have to ask why the Emperor wanted someone as bloodthirsty as Tarkin. She had a feeling that she already knew. “But why would he outrank you?” Mara said. “You’re the Emperor’s…enforcer.” Even saying that was enough to make her almost flinch. Even saying the word “enforcer” was enough to call to mind the matter of terrible murders, atrocities that she heard broadcasted over the Holonet until either Owen or Beru decided to turn them off. “It makes no sense.”  
  
“The bureaucracy has always been stronger than those such as me, at least in the Emperor’s eyes. He wants to maintain the bureaucracy. And he will do anything to make sure that it’s so.”  
  
“So you’re saying that it’s been nothing but a bunch of political bantha poodoo.” Beat. “Why am I not surprised?”  
  
“It was not meant to be this way.” And for a moment, Mara could swear that she heard Terminus’ voice grow more impassioned than she doubted she had ever seen him before. “Long ago, others believed that the Emperor, the Chancellor then, was an honorable man. The man who would lead us out of the corruption of the Senate and to greater glory. But he betrayed them.” His voice grew sadder now, and from the way he seemed to momentarily look away, Mara could only infer that this had been quite painful for him, to say the least. She could only infer that saying it all aloud, telling the truth, was even more painful than remembering. “He stripped away our rights, one by one. It started small, what with the request of more emergency powers, and then it grew larger as he continued making amendments to the Constitution, until finally…finally, he roped me into this.”  
  
“Why did you do it?” If Terminus damn expected Mara to believe him, he – amongst other things – needed to at least tell her why he did all of this. All these heinous things.  
  
“Because I thought at the time,” Terminus said, “It was the right thing to do.” He paused now; from the way he looked, he seemed to be almost remembering. “For the sake of those who had died in the Clone Wars, and for the sake of those who had suffered in the Clone Wars as well. To save a friend’s soul. To save others. I thought at the very least I could do some degree of right in all of this, but it didn’t turn out the way it should have.” And the way he said it – his voice didn’t crack, but it seemed to have gone softer in that moment.  
In spite of herself, Mara placed a hand on Terminus’ arm. For all his crimes, for all his sins, he didn’t deserve what happened to him. No one, she thought, deserved what happened to Terminus. Becoming this creature, all because he wanted to save others. It didn’t justify his actions necessarily; they were still atrocious, they were still horrible, and yet…  
  
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This shouldn’t have happened to you.”  
  
Terminus seemed almost surprised at the touch, tilting his head a bit, but he seemed to ultimately accept it. “I can’t say that I’ve been…touched very often,” he said. “Thank you.”  
  
Mara smiled if only faintly, sadly. No one damn deserved what happened to Terminus. Whatever his sins, whatever he had done, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. “You’re welcome,” she said. She couldn’t say what this was damn going to turn into, necessarily, what with the two Sith (even thinking about it, she almost couldn’t imagine that this was what they were called. No one had ever damn called them Sith. Mara had known of the Empire that had nearly wiped out the Jedi, but she hadn’t thought of them as being Sith. Even thinking about it was enough to make her sick, in truth; all this, all of this suffering, because of two ideologies that continually clashed, intent on completely crushing the others somehow, and not caring whatever damage they left in their wake) in their ship (and that was something that she doubted that she would ever truly say. This journey seemed to be getting stranger all the time), but whatever happened, they were going to meet it nonetheless. And that…that, she thought, was reassuring enough.  
  
They headed now towards Yavin IV – even getting up, moving if only slightly towards the cockpit if only to get some degree of a better look, Mara could see that it looked more lush, more green at least from space than the gas giant that it now orbited. They seemed to be such a contrast, she thought – the scarlet planet next to one of its green moons. And even as Han brought the _Falcon_ down on the planet…it was beautiful, Mara thought. Wide open blue skies, lush green trees, the red gas giant looming in the distance – it seemed to be a mixture between nature and technology that was almost, she thought, perfect. She headed back towards the medical bay now, turned towards Terminus.  
  
“I didn’t think I was going to see the galaxy,” she said, and even in spite of herself, she felt a twinge of excitement in her chest. And yet it was a sort of excitement that hurt. Almost, she thought, as if she was the daughter telling her father – her utterly naïve, broken, ruthless and yet somehow-very-much-good-still father – about her excitement about seeing the wonders of the galaxy. Even seeing the wonders of the galaxy…there were plenty of horrors. Mara doubted that Alderaan was damn the last she had seen of the horrors of the Empire and its sadism. But it was things such as Yavin IV, just seeing it… “But it’s just…” She shook her head. “I doubt I can describe what I’ve seen. The wonders, the horrors. It feels almost…too much for me.” And even thinking about Alderaan again, something in her chest seized up and she found it hard to breathe. All these people, _dead_...  
  
Terminus’ fingers now brushed her shoulder. They were almost cold, almost removed, and yet there was a certain sort of gentleness and warmth in them that she could feel through the Force. Something, she thought, that almost reminded her of Owen or Beru. It was such a confusing thing. She almost preferred it when Terminus was nothing but a monster chasing them. At the very least, it would have been slightly less confusing. She would have at least known to hate and fear him. But this…she couldn’t say whether to hate and fear him or love him.  
  
Terminus’ voice was soft, almost gentle. “It always is. You’ve taken your first step into a larger world, after all. It’s guaranteed that you may find more wonder and horror than you could have ever truly imagined.”  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I could ever…” She trailed off; how was she damn going to explain it? “I’m not scared,” she said. “At least, not for myself. I’m just scared for other people.”  
  
“The fact that you’re fighting against it is remarkable in and of itself,” Terminus said. “There’s no need for self-condemnation.” And Mara could swear that she could see a ray of light all but flicker across his machine eyes, giving him a sort of warmth that she never expected from Terminus. Almost like a father should be, Mara thought. Because he was her father in that moment, not the Dark Lord of the Sith, not the Emperor’s main enforcer, but her father, trying to reconnect with his daughter after too many years away from her. “I have admired the Rebellion, in a way. For all their sins, and there are many, they do not give up without a fight. As those who fight against the Empire should.” A beat. “I know I wish to do what they have done.”  
  
“You do?”  
  
“Why else do you think I was searching for you? I wanted you to help me.” It was then that Terminus’ voice began to swell with emotion – at least, as much emotion as the vocoder conveyed. “More than anything, I wanted you and Sabe and Padme to help me.”  
  
“Sabe?”  
  
“Elizabeth Nerus. Or more precisely, your mother.”  
  
Somehow, Mara thought, after the bizarreness of today, this was one revelation that she couldn’t say bothered her very much. Elizabeth Nerus being her mother, Sabe…yes, she thought. She could definitely go with that. Sabe, after all, was a brave woman. Mara could only hope that she lived up to her – and Lady Nemo, or Padme’s – example. And yet somehow, there was still so much that she didn’t understand. “Why did she leave me?” Mara finally managed to say. She had seen flashes of Sabe in her dreams that no doubt suggested why, but she couldn’t say that she knew why.  
  
“It was a necessity.” Elizabeth Nerus – Sabe – this time. “To keep both you and…your brother safe from the Empire.”  
  
“I don’t have a brother.” This was getting more bizarre by the moment.  
  
Sabe took a deep breath, before sitting on Mara’s other side – Terminus sat on the right side. There was something about it, Mara thought, that almost resembled some talks she had had with Owen and Beru. It felt almost, Mara thought, surreal. “I suppose it’s time to tell you everything. Padme and I…we never wanted to keep anything from you. If it were possible, I would have raised both you and Ben.” A beat. “Obi-Wan and I…we would have raised both you and Ben. But Padme and I thought, at least in the end, that separating you and Ben, sending the both of you to live on different planets, would be the best decision for the both of you. Just for the sake of keeping the both of you safe. Protected from the Emperor himself. It would have been very likely that you would have been captured and converted, and neither Padme nor I wanted this to happen.”  
  
 _So Ben’s my brother._ Mara took a deep breath. “All of this...it makes no kriffing sense.” She shook her head. “It feels like some sort of holodrama that my…foster mother would watch or something. Or that Luke’s mom would watch.”  
  
“It’s definitely understandable.” Sabe said. “Just…believe me that I never truly wanted this. For you, for Ben, for Obi-Wan. But there was no other choice.”  
  
It was then that Han interrupted. “Sorry to sort of butt in,” he said, “But we’re landing on Yavin now.” He sighed. “We’re going to have to think quickly. I mean…how’s Terminus?”  
  
“Perfectly well,” Terminus said wryly as he turned to face Han. “No thanks to you.”  
  
“I was trying to save Lady Nemo’s life.”  
  
“Brave,” Terminus said, “If foolish.”  
  
Han shrugged. “It’s one of my talents. What can I say?” He turned towards Mara. “So what do you suggest we do?”  
  
Mara sighed. “We’re going to have to keep him on the ship,” she said, “I mean…” She ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t want to think of what would happen to them all if he were found on the ship. How would the Rebellion react? What would they think of them? “We can’t risk him being found. I don’t want to think of what might happen to him.”  
  
“Your concern is touching,” Terminus said, “But I will be fine.” A beat. “I’m turning myself in.”  
  
Silence. The others in the _Falcon_ looked amazed – and in the case of both Padme and Sabe, Mara thought, they seemed almost afraid.  
  
“Obi-Wan,” Sabe said, “You don’t need to…”  
  
“I do,” Terminus said. “After all…it is the right thing to do. If only after what I’ve done. Perhaps from there, I can try and make amends.”  
  
Sabe took a deep breath. She seemed to be visibly trying to not shatter. Mara reached out now, placed a hand on Sabe’s shoulder – her mother’s shoulder. The best she could do was at the very least be there for her mother at least at this time.  
  
Terminus, meanwhile, did something unexpected – at least, to Mara’s eyes. He placed his forehead – at least the forehead of his helmet – against Sabe’s. It was no more than a light touch; one would never have suspected that he was placing his forehead against hers. From a stranger’s point of view, they seemed to just be all but touching their heads together.  
  
“Have faith, Sabe,” Terminus said. “Everything will be all right.”  
  
“Yes.” Sabe seemed to be at the very least trying to convince herself, Mara, and the others with them. “Yes, it will be all right.”  
  
The two of them drew away, and even watching, Mara was almost struck by the tenderness of the gesture. It was something that she, in truth, hadn’t exactly expected in regards to Lord Terminus. The man known as one of the most vicious enforcers of the Emperor. The man who had hunted down and slaughtered almost every Jedi in existence. Even watching it, she couldn’t say that she had any idea how to react.  
  
Vader, meanwhile, placed a hand on Terminus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, and for a moment, Mara could swear that there was a sort of childlike distress in his voice. Something that was childlike and yet more mature than she expected.  
  
“I do,” Terminus said. “Take care of the others.”  
  
Vader merely nodded.  
  
It was then that they disembarked into the tangled jungles of Yavin IV. Mara looked around in that moment; even though they were all but hanging on the precipice of an uncertain future, there was something about the jungle around them that was almost enough to distract her from the fact that they might be imprisoned or executed. Mistaken for traitors. And even if they weren’t, the matter of Terminus, her father, being imprisoned…  
  
Mara had been used to seeing him as the enemy. If this had happened previous to the matter of the revelations, if this had happened before the matter of all of this, she doubted that she would have cared. And yet somehow…somehow she did.  
  
It was odd how one detail could all but change everything in what felt like a blink of an eye. He was still a monster, there was no doubt. He had at least done monstrous things. But this…did he truly deserve this?  
  
Commander Willard greeted them first. He was a very friendly sort of man, with a warm, open sort of face. Like someone’s dad, or someone’s uncle. Even seeing him embrace Leia and Ben both, as well as Ada and the other _Tantive IV_ crew members, it was enough to make Mara smile even spite of herself.  
  
“Thank goodness you’re safe,” Willard said once he drew away from them. “When we heard about Alderaan…” He seemed to falter even as he said it. “When we heard about Alderaan, we feared the worst.”  
  
“We’re fine,” Ada said. “We’re all fine.” She took a deep breath; Mara could see that she was quite plainly trying to steady herself. To try not to crack. “I think the gods were trying to protect us this day.”  
  
“Yes,” Willard said. “I think you’re right.”  
  
It was later that they dealt with the matter of Terminus. Willard reassured Mara that he would be treated well, and he’d mostly be sealed away until the matter of his trial for war crimes.  
  
“For now,” Willard said, “We’re going to need to open this Artoo unit to see what information it contains. It might be our only hope in this war.” He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “We’ve been on the losing side for a bit too long. Can’t believe that we’ve got this information. Or Terminus, for that matter.” He grinned. “You’ve done beautifully today.”  
  
And even in spite of herself, Mara smiled. She then faltered as she turned to Terminus. _Good luck_. Terminus’ voice all but echoed in her mind.  
  
She merely nodded, a quiet signal to him for good luck as well. She could only hope that Willard and the others would keep their word.  
  
Then again, they were noble men and women. They wouldn’t do something like this. And they were kind. Perhaps, Mara thought, she was just thinking too much about this.  
  
At least, she could only hope she was just thinking too much about this.  
  
***  
  
If there was one thing that Vader was absolutely certain of, it was the fact that if nothing else, the Empire had drastically overestimated the power of their superweapon. And there was something about that, at the very least, that was enough to make him smile even in spite of himself. There was a chance if only to take down the Death Star. To put an end to what the Empire was doing. He faltered even thinking about it. He didn’t want more Alderaans. And if nothing else, he knew that Tarkin wasn’t going to stop at Alderaan. If they were being still tracked to Yavin – which he knew was the case. He could feel it in the back of his mind; the Death Star, practically looming like some monster out of a nightmare. And Tarkin, his madness and his coldness and his brilliance and his sadism, all shining through the Force in a sort of piercing blue that reminded Vader too much of the ice of Hoth – Tarkin would most likely destroy Yavin as well. And he probably wouldn’t stop there. He’d probably destroy every planet in his path if it meant stopping Rebel threats, real or perceived.  
  
Vader took a deep breath. He almost didn’t want to think about it. For all the Jedi had accused him and Ventress of being otherwise – and if Ventress was still in the Empire’s grasp…he almost didn’t want to think about it – he quite liked the galaxy. What was there to not love about the galaxy, in the end? Every moon, every star, every planet…he could still remember as a child when he had promised (practically boasted) to see every planet, star and moon out there. Now, he thought, he was all but watching them die. Entire cities in flame on Sidious’ command. Freedom replaced with fear. Rocky graveyards replacing great planets.  
  
And yet, even listening to General Dodonna, a bearded, wise man who, Vader thought, looked almost as if he belonged in the old Jedi Order, serving on the Council as a Master, guiding his Jedi students (whether it was to glory or to ruin, he couldn’t say. They seemed almost the same thing at times. That was what the wars, the Clone Wars and this war, did. Fused glory and ruin so closely together that one could not, truly, understand which was which), go on about the matter of the Death Star and its one weakness that the Empire hadn’t covered up (then again, Vader could only assume, considering the Geonosians that they had originally gotten the blueprints from, there had been some flaw in the blueprints that the Geonosians hadn’t noticed, and that the Empire had been too arrogant, too secure in their own power, to try and fix), there was something in his heart that could not help but wonder if there was another way. After all, Tarkin…Tarkin was nothing but a monster. If one asked “who would do something like that to a planet full of innocents”, the correct answer, Vader thought, was “the sort of person who deserves to die, or face at least some form of retribution”. That he did not deny.  
  
 But there were people on the Death Star who weren’t monsters. Their only crime was just being on the Death Star. True, there were some Imperial officers who were probably as sadistic as Tarkin, and some who were, frighteningly enough, almost moreso, but the rest of them…there were people who tended bars on the Death Star, for example, there were soldiers whose only crime was damn doing their duty to the Empire (for every Tarkin, there was someone who was just doing their duty. It was far from an admirable duty, and others would most likely scoff at Vader saying that they were just doing their duty, but it was the truth. They were no more evil than the soldiers surrounding Vader in this moment), and really, did they deserve to die like this if only for something that Tarkin had done?  
Tarkin deserved some form of retribution, from the Force itself or otherwise – and it would be a suiting punishment for someone who was arrogant enough to think that he could order around a Force user. Just to be reminded that he was far from the biggest rancor in the pit. But the others…  
  
It was then that another pilot spoke up. Wedge Antilles, more precisely. A tall young man, with brown hair that framed his strong-featured face. “That’s impossible,” he said, “Even for a computer.”  
  
Vader had to suppress a smirk. Did this Wedge Antilles honestly think that firing a shot into a shaft and into a reactor system was impossible? Nothing was truly impossible. Impossible was just a word that others seemed to use as an excuse for “I’m afraid to do it, therefore it can’t be done”.  
  
“It’s not that impossible,” he said. “It just takes aiming, training, and instinct. And knowing what you’re doing.”  
  
Wedge looked at him if only quizzically. “Seriously?”  
  
“I’ve had experience in that area.”  
  
Dodonna interrupted the both of them before, Vader thought, they would no doubt get into some sort of argument in regards to how possible or impossible it was for something like this to happen. “Man your ships!” he said. “And may the Force be with you.”  
  
And as Vader got up, he could only hope that that was the case. They were going to need all the Force that they could get, he thought. And more than that.  
  
It was then that Padme walked towards him. “Are you okay?” she said. “I could feel your anxiety all the way over to the other side.”  
  
“I was broadcasting that loudly?” Vader made a mental note to at least not broadcast so loudly in the future. Then again, he had never been truly good at controlling his emotions. It had been something that Dooku had derided in him, back when the Sith Lord was still alive. It was hard to control those emotions, though, he thought. They seemed to all but swell in him like tidal waves. He could never truly get the sort of self-control that, say, Dooku had. Then again, Dooku seemed to be so composed that on occasion, Vader wondered if the older Sith Lord was carved from ice. Then again, he supposed that was a benefit of being trained first as a Jedi. Once you were Sith, becoming detached enough to do what was right – it didn’t mean, necessarily, that the Sith advocated self-restraint. It was a different sort of self-restraint, Vader thought. It was the sort of self-restraint that meant you were cold and calculating when you needed to be, and filled with rage when you needed to be. Actually, Vader thought, it was probably nothing like self-restraint at all – to do what you could to achieve your goals was all too easy.  
  
Although even Dooku had his moments of faltering. He thought that Vader didn’t notice when he was slipping. He was wrong.  
  
“Yes,” Padme said, but her voice was gentle. “You’re worried for the others, aren’t you?”  
  
Vader checked to make sure that the others had left. Fortunately, they were already filing out towards the exit, towards their ships. And towards an uncertain outcome. He could only hope they weren’t throwing their lives away for nothing. Rebel soldiers that he, Terminus and Ventress had captured in the past seemed all too willing to throw their lives away if only for freedom. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his own causes that he would willingly sacrifice his life for. Protecting those he loved, for example. And yet there was something about all these deaths that was so very senseless…  
  
He took a deep breath. “It’s not that I don’t want Tarkin to face some sort of punishment,” he said. “He’s…all that he’s done, that’s not what the Empire was ever meant to be. Torture. Imprisonment. Murder. And what he did to the Omwati people…they were just _children_ , Padme, and he made them watch as their homes were destroyed.” He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t think he’s even human, Padme. He’s a monster in human skin.”  
  
Padme’s face – he almost wished that he hadn’t mentioned the matter of the Omwati people. The way she looked…though she tried to at least not break down on the outside, there was something in her eyes, still so very wide and innocent after all this time, that showed the anger and the sadness in her eyes. “I know,” she said, and she seemed to almost look down in that moment, the sadness in her face becoming all the more prominent. “I’ve always known.”  
  
“It wasn’t meant to be this way,” Vader said. “It was supposed to be…” He took a deep breath. “Sidious talked about a better world. He talked about bringing peace to the galaxy. It was long after Terminus was brought in, after he was badly injured, and he promised us that from there, we’d be able to make things right again. But all this…he broke that promise. The sort of ideals that a Sith has; in a way, it’s like a promise you make. Kind of like the Jedi, I guess. But he broke that promise.”  
  
Padme smiled sadly. “He has a talent for that.”  
  
“I know. I guess I just…I want Tarkin to pay for what he’s done.” The anger continued boiling in Vader, almost like Mustafar’s lava itself. “And when he realizes that the Death Star isn’t as strong as he thought, I want to be there to feel it. But the others…” Vader ran a hand through his hair. “I saw them around a few times. There’ve been a few psychopaths, a few monsters, but most of them…their only crimes were just being there, Padme. Other than that, they’re not monsters. But they’ll die and…I don’t want them to die for Tarkin’s crimes. It’s not their fault.”  
  
Padme placed a hand on Vader’s cheek. “I know,” she said. There was something about her touch, Vader thought, that was calming, just enough. _It’s all right,_ the touch said. _We’ll be all right. They’re all going to be all right._  
  
“I just hope Ventress will be all right.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Padme said. “But whatever happens…” She took a deep breath. “Whatever happens, just hold on. Hold on for Mara. Hold on for the others.”  
  
Vader nodded. No matter how bad things got, he could do that. He could hold on, if only for those he had to protect. “We’ll be able to save them,” he said. “Won’t we, Padme?”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“The people on the Death Star,” Vader said, “And Mara and the others.”  
  
Padme took a deep breath. “To be honest,” she said, “I don’t know. The Clone Wars…if there’s anything that I’ve learned from them, it’s that for all you try to prevent it, there’s going to be senseless deaths on all sides. It’s why I got disillusioned with it as it went on. There was no point to any of it. All these people dying.”  
  
Vader couldn’t disagree with that. All these people, all those people who had died – and for what? Nothing. Because all of this was a plan by Sidious to seize control. He had tried to tell Padme, to tell Obi-Wan, and yet they hadn’t listened to him. They hadn’t realized, at the very least, until it was too late. And that…that was one of the worst parts about it.  
  
He placed a hand over hers now. “No matter what happens,” he said, “It’s not going to happen to anyone else. Even if I have to die trying, even if we have to die trying, it’s not going to happen to anyone else. Because…” He took a deep breath. “To make it all right again,” he said, “I would do anything.”  
  
“So would I.” Padme returned his gesture in that moment. “And we are going to make it right in the end. I promise.”  
  
And there was something in her voice, something in her eyes, where at least for a moment, Vader felt almost as if he could do it. As if they could do it. They would make everything all right again. They would stop Tarkin, and just for good measure, Vader would be there to feel, if not see, Tarkin’s shock when he realized that the Rebellion just overwhelmed the much larger battlestation that he had somehow put so much faith in. The heroic gizka and the krayt dragon, as his mother used to tell him stories about at night. _And against all odds, the gizka slew the krayt dragon, and returned home to his people to boast of his daring and impossible deed…_  
  
And if a gizka could kill a krayt dragon, the Rebellion could defeat this monster, this imposter, that called itself the Empire.  
  
And perhaps, impossibly, Vader thought, the others on the Death Star, the people who were innocent of Alderaan’s destruction…perhaps they would get out in time. They had to get out in time.  
  
He couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if they didn’t.  
  
***  
  
The hangar was already busy even as Mara entered it. Everything about it, she thought, seemed to practically scream being on the verge of a greater change. On the verge of either crushing defeat or a sort of victory that they never would have truly anticipated. She could only pray that it was the former. After all, if Yavin got destroyed along with Alderaan…  
  
Mara didn’t want to think about it. The Death Star laser, piercing through Yavin’s atmosphere as it fired. The entire planet going up in a wall of fire, consuming her friends, consuming the Rebellion, consuming everyone on that planet. And yet, there was something in her that couldn’t help but wonder if they would truly fire if they realized that two of their enforcers were down on the planet…  
  
Would they? Or would they go through with it anyway, the matter of their enforcers be damned? Perhaps they’d do it anyway, if only to punish Vader and Terminus both as some sick sort of bonus –  
  
Mara shivered, tried if only vainly to push away those thoughts. She didn’t want to think about something like that happening. She didn’t want to think about Vader and Terminus dying. She didn’t want to think about the Rebellion dying, or the crew of the _Tantive IV_ , or Leia or Ben or just about anyone –  
  
It was far across the hangar that Mara saw Han and Chewie packing things into one of the armored speeders. Her chest clenched. So that was how Han was going to be? He was just, after everything that had happened, going to take the reward money and leave like it never mattered, like it was just another smuggling mission?  
  
 _Mara,_ she chastised herself, _Stop that. He probably has his reasons._  
  
But what reasons could they be, in the end? The Rebellion – they needed all the help that they could get. And Han – considering that he was cunning, creative, ingenious, bold, and so many other admirable and awesome qualities, how could he think of just leaving them like this? The Rebellion needed all the help that they could get in this desperate hour, and Mara…  
  
Though she couldn’t admit it out loud, she had become pretty fond of Han. Not necessarily romantically – after all, he was a cocky bastard. Hardly someone you wanted to get romantically involved with – but more like a friend that you didn’t expect you’d like, but somehow, you did.  
  
Han raised his head in that moment even as Mara approached. “Hey,” he said. “How are you?”  
  
“Good.” Mara looked up and down the boxes; even looking at them was enough to make her heart sink. The fact that Han was leaving, just like that… “You don’t have to leave,” she said, “I mean…I think you have a lot more to do before this is all over.”  
  
Han snorted. “You sound like Lady Nemo, you know that?”  
  
“Maybe I do,” Mara said, “But…we need you.” _I need you_ , a part of her said, but somehow, she thought, it felt as if those words were frozen in her throat, refusing to come out.  
  
“I’ve got debts to pay,” Han said. “My employer, Jabba…he’s going to murder me or freeze me in carbonite if I don’t get the reward money to him. That’s kind of one reason I decided to take you to Alderaan.” Beat. “That and the Empire isn’t worth the slime under a Hutt’s tail, but that’s another story entirely.”  
  
Mara couldn’t help but laugh if only a bit even in spite of herself. There was something about at least that that was enough to make her feel better, if only slightly. Then she faltered. “So that’s pretty much it? After everything that happened, you’re just leaving?”  
  
“I do what I’ve got to do,” Han said. “Besides…just look around you. Attacking a battlestation like that…that’s not courage. That’s suicide.”  
  
Mara supposed that in a way Han was right. And yet… “Who else is going to stand up against the Death Star if not us? We have to stop it from destroying more planets. I mean, I’m certain that in time, there won’t be a Tatooine left to land on.”  
  
Something seemed to flicker over Han’s face, almost as if, for a moment, he was hesitating. Mara took advantage of it, pressing on if only gently. “It’s not glamorous,” she said, “I think what we’ve seen thus far is proof enough of that. We’re just doing what’s right.”  
  
Silence. “Honestly, kiddo,” Han said, “You deserve a better fate than this. They all deserve a better fate than this.”  
  
“We’ll be going out doing what’s right.”  
  
Han seemed thoughtful. Then, “Maybe. But I’m not…I’m not going with you.”  
  
Mara couldn’t help but feel something flare up inside her. “Looking out for number one again?” she couldn’t help but say. She knew she was being terrible, she knew she was being cruel, but the idea of Han just leaving them like _that_ …  
  
“Maybe a bit,” Han said. “Besides…how else do we survive these days?”  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “This isn’t all there is, Han,” she said. “I mean…you’re meant for greater things than this. I know it.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Then Han spoke. “No, you’re meant for greater things than this. Just…take care of yourself, kiddo. And everyone else.” A hint of humor came into his voice even as he said, “Wipe that smirk off the Empire’s faces for me.”  
  
Mara grinned. “Will do. May the Force be with you.”  
  
“You too, kiddo.”  
  
Even as Han left, Mara could not help but feel empty somehow. She could hear Chewie grumbling something to him, and Han rebutting him, but she couldn’t say that she heard it very well. She sighed, trying if only to calm herself.  
  
 _He’s just doing what he can,_ she told herself. _No need to get angry about it._  
  
And yet she couldn’t help but feel angry. After all this time, after everything they’d been through, Han was just going to leave like it was nothing? Like their entire lives weren’t at stake?  
  
She hadn’t expected to like Han. And yet over the course of this journey, she had seen more to him than she had thought was possible. After all, for one thing, he was…quite a nice guy when one got to know him. Cocky, yes. A bit rough, yes. But there was plenty of heroism in him enough to make Mara admire him in spite of herself.  
  
And now he was just leaving, just like that.  
  
Mara took a deep breath. He had said to wipe the smirk off the Empire’s faces for him, just before he left. So that was what she was going to do.  
  
It was on the way to her ship that she ran into Padme and Vader. Vader’s brows furrowed even as he looked over her. “You all right?” he said. “I mean…”  
  
“Han just left,” Mara said. “I mean…” She sighed, ran a hand through her hair. “I should have seen it coming, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. It’s like everything we experienced didn’t mean anything to him.”  
  
“I’m certain it did.” Padme, this time. “Just because he left us doesn’t mean he doesn’t think anything of what happened.”  
  
“You don’t know that,” Mara said.  
  
Padme seemed to smile if only a bit. “You’d be surprised with instances like these. Sometimes the people who you think the least of can turn around and surprise you.” She gently touched Mara’s shoulder. “Come on,” she said, “We should get you to your ship.”  
  
It was on the way to the ship that Mara saw him. Biggs. He was just standing off to the side, talking with another pilot, when he turned around to see her. He looked disbelieving if only for a moment before running towards her – and then Mara was practically engulfed in a hug so tight that she could barely breathe. And yet she couldn’t help but grin as well – she and Biggs were together, in the Rebellion. It had taken a long road to get there, but nonetheless – it was worth it, all of it. It was more than worth it.  
  
Biggs drew away, grinning brighter than the twin suns themselves. “Mara! How did you even get there; I thought I’d never see you again!”  
  
“It’s a long story,” Mara said. “And a pretty strange one. I mean, if I told you right now…” She laughed. “If I told you right now, you wouldn’t believe it.”  
  
“I personally can’t believe that you caught Lord Terminus himself…”  
  
Mara kept smiling, but on the inside, she was already wavering. She already wanted to tell Biggs so much about the wonders and the horrors she had seen. The horrors of Alderaan’s destruction. The wonders in the new companions that she had found. And the strange wonder and horror of Terminus simply…turning himself in. Because he felt it was the right thing to do.  
  
“I think I’ll tell you more after the whole…thing.”  
  
It was then that Red Leader approached. He was a friendly looking older man, probably around his forties, with a sort of open, handsome face. “You’re Mara, right? Mara Lars? The woman who helped capture Darth Terminus?”  
  
 _We didn’t capture him; Padme decided to rescue him. And we didn’t bring him back to the Alliance, he turned himself in._ Still, Mara nodded, trying at the very least to at least look modest. “I am,” she said.  
  
“Have you been checked out on the Incom T-Sixty-Five?”  
  
Before Mara could answer, Biggs stepped in. “Sir,” he said, “Just believe me when I say that Mara Lars is one of the best pilots out there.”  
  
Mara smiled. Honestly, Biggs was exaggerating. The most piloting experience she had was racing speeders with him and Luke against the sunrise, or the sunset. Hardly piloting material.  
  
A pang went through her heart even as she thought about Luke. She could only hope that wherever he was, he was all right. She couldn’t bear to think of anything terrible happening to him. Granted, Luke was pretty resilient, and more than capable of taking care of himself, and yet there was something in her that could not help but worry…  
  
 _Just be safe out there, Luke. Wherever you are._  
  
It was heading towards Mara’s fighter that Red Leader said, “I met your father once, when I was just a boy.”  
  
Mara stopped abruptly. Somehow, the idea that Red Leader had known her father… “You did?” Her curiosity was piqued now. To think that Red Leader had known her father, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Terminus… “How, exactly?”  
  
“I flew with him. During the Clone Wars.”  
  
Mara could not help but laugh. “That’s…amazing.” Then she faltered. “What was he like?”  
  
“Probably one of the noblest men you could ever meet. Always selfless. Always willing to sacrifice whatever he could for other people. Great sense of humor too. And, of course, one of the most phenomenal pilots I ever met…”  
  
“He hated flying when I met him.” Padme, this time. A faint smile was on her face. “He got over it, of course.”  
  
Red Leader looked over at Padme. “Somehow I can’t picture him being scared of flying.”  
  
“Well,” Padme said. “He was.” A beat. “It’s very good to see you again, by the way,” she said, “Garvin.”  
  
Things seemed to be getting stranger, and yet strangely, more fascinating, by the minute.  
  
Red Leader turned back to Mara. “You’ll do all right. You’ll do better than all right. You’ll be amazing.”  
  
“I certainly hope so, sir.” And yet there was something about his words that was enough to send a sort of warmth through Mara.  
  
“You definitely will.” Biggs, this time. He grinned. “It’ll be like old times, Mara. We’re a couple of shooting stars that can’t be stopped!”  
  
Mara grinned. “Yeah,” she said, “We are.”  
  
It was heading to her ship that she turned around if only to see Owen and Beru looking at her. Beru approached her now, a look of utter pride in her eyes. “I knew that you’d make it someday,” she said. “I always did.” She took Mara’s hands. “Just be safe up there. Promise us that?”  
  
“I’ll be fine,” Mara said. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”  
  
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Owen, this time. “It’s not fun, Mara. It’s not glamorous. There’s nothing glamorous about it. People…young people, like you, have just thrown their lives away in the name of some damn fool idealistic crusade. I don’t want something like that to happen to you.”  
  
And even looking into her adoptive father’s eyes, Mara could see the truth of it in there. The fear that he had that Mara wouldn’t come back alive. That he had effectively failed to keep her safe.  
  
But still, what did he have to worry about? She was almost an adult by now. He’d have to let her go sometime. Everyone had to leave sometime; otherwise, nothing would truly get started.  
  
“Dad,” she said, gently, “Mom. I know that you’re both worried about me. I know that you have more than enough reason to be. But trust me, I’m going to be okay.”  
  
“You don’t know that,” Owen said. “The Empire…it’s got enough ships to overwhelm you.”  
  
“I know. And honestly…I’m worried about you guys too. I mean, if I fail to do this, you both are going to die. Everyone’s going to die. I can’t let this happen.” She looked into Owen’s eyes, into the fear and the care that he had in them, the worry that somehow, she wouldn’t come back alive. She looked at Beru as well, and saw the same in them. People who had done so much if only to try and keep her safe. She took a deep breath. “I know it’s not glamorous. It’s not fun. I kind of figured that. But all of us – if anyone’s going to stand up against the Empire, it’s going to be us.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Then Owen grinned. “Then give them hell, Mara. Just for us.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
She embraced Owen, and then Beru, before turning to embrace Padme and Vader. Because if this was the last time she would ever see them, she had to let them know, at the very least, how much they were appreciated. It was then that Ben, Leia and Ada approached.  
“We thought that we’d say goodbye,” Ada said, “Just in case.”  
  
“It’s not goodbye,” Mara said, “Not really.” She grinned. “I’m going to make it back here. Trust me.”  
  
“Well,” Ben said, “Good luck then.”  
  
“You too.” And by the Force itself, Mara thought, even as she made the necessary preparations, negotiating with the chief of the repair crew if only to have Artoo there (after all, if she was going to be going into battle against a giant space station, having Artoo at her side was definitely a good idea), saying their necessary goodbyes to Threepio, and putting in the flight equipment – by the Force itself, she was going to give the Empire hell.  
  
They were going to give the Empire hell.  
  
And even if they ended up dying in the process, they were going to give the Empire enough hell to be remembered as the ones who fought back when the Empire thought that no one else could.  
  
The ships then lifted off into Yavin IV’s atmosphere, and towards an uncertain outcome.


	22. When Fear Itself Came Crashing Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the battle of Yavin IV begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This isn't really one of my favorite chapters, to be honest. I admit there are instances where, well, Tarkin doesn't feel right, the battle's a little rushed, etc. On the other hand, I really think I nailed Terminus' internal monologue, as well as Mara's, and Ben's. And Ventress'. Also liked Mara and Terminus' interaction.

To say that the Empire had suffered several losses would be putting it mildly, Tarkin thought. Even standing on the bridge of the Death Star, he was already unpleasantly reminded that Lord Vader had betrayed them, defected to the Rebellion if only for no other reason than, from what Tarkin had gathered, some sort of moment of conscience, and Lord Terminus had been captured. They had already managed to place the homing beacon secretly aboard the _Millennium Falcon_ if only to track them to the Rebel Base, to find out where Terminus was being taken as well as to find the base and destroy the Rebellion once and for all – killing two birds with one stone, as it were.  
  
Or three or four. Considering that Lord Vader had betrayed them and there were still apparently Force Sensitives out there, in a sense, Tarkin was eliminating them as well. Four birds with one stone then.  
  
The Rebellion had been a thorn in the Empire’s side, Tarkin thought, for far too long. Undermining everything that the Emperor was trying so hard to preserve. That Tarkin himself was trying so hard to preserve. They were sabotaging just about everything, justifying their terrorism and their treason by the fact that somehow, they were right if only because they were right. He had done everything to try and serve the Empire, to serve the Emperor’s will, to keep the population in line. He had done everything to keep others in the galaxy from joining the Rebellion. He had done so much if only to serve the Emperor. And now he stood over the moon of Yavin IV, and he felt a sudden surge of power, almost akin to electricity, go up his spine. This…this was perfect. This was how it was always meant to be. Finally crushing the Rebellion itself. Stopping it from recruiting others to its cause, stopping it from destroying everything else that the Empire ever worked for.  
  
He had always admired the Emperor. The Emperor had been stronger than the Old Republic and the Jedi had ever been. He was stronger in will, stronger in force, willing to do what the Old Republic and the Jedi Order alike had been too weak-willed to do. He had always been loyal to the Old Republic; at least, his family had. But the Old Republic was nothing more than a weak, bloated, corrupt government, their time long past. And the Jedi Order had been equally archaic, too obsessed with the matter of peace and their Code to actually do anything.  
  
They, meanwhile, served the Empire to the last. Rooting out traitors, rooting out those who dared to threaten the Empire. Doing their duty for the government that they were so very devoted to to the last.  
  
And so standing on the Death Star, his creation, in a sense, the symbol of fear to the Rebellion and the symbol of power to the Empire, Tarkin looked over Yavin IV. Yes, he thought, victory would indeed be sweet. It would take a long while before they were finally in range of the Rebel Base. But when the Rebel Base was destroyed, when the remaining Rebels were captured and executed for their treason, it would be sweet indeed.  
  
***  
  
The dejarik board was already set, so to speak. Even looking outside the window of her X-wing, Mara could already see the gas giant of Yavin, looming large and scarlet and almost ominous over the gleaming X-wings, which seemed almost akin to white, metallic birds against the inky black of space. She took a deep breath, bracing herself, thinking of the others back down on that planet, and how she had to protect them.  
  
It was then that Red Leader’s voice echoed over Mara’s headphones. “All wings report in.”  
  
Voices then proceeded to chime over Mara’s headphones as well. “Red Ten standing by.”  
  
“Red Seven standing by.”  
  
 “Red Three standing by.” (That was Biggs.)  
  
Others proceeded to report in as well, such as Red Six, Red Nine, Red Two (Wedge, the person that Vader was at odds with earlier) , and Red Eleven. It was then that Mara spoke up. “Red Five standing by.” Her father’s call sign, back in the Clone Wars. Even saying it gave her a strangely literal feeling of stepping into her father’s shoes. She had big shoes to fill. She could only hope that she would be able to fill them.  
  
Red Leader’s voice echoed over her head set. “Lock S-foils in attack position.”  
  
Mara and the others obeyed. In her head – was it in her head? Mara could only assume – she could hear Terminus’ voice. Not that deep sort of mechanical rumble that Mara had become familiar with, but a gentle, soft, vaguely sort of Coruscanti voice. _Be safe, Mara. May the Force be with you._  
  
Mara smiled, and she could swear that she felt tears prick at her eyes. Still, she couldn’t afford to start crying. Not now. She had to stay strong, if only for the others. “You too,” she murmured. “You too.”  
  
“Red Five?” Red Leader’s voice now, concerned. “Are you all right?”  
  
“I am,” Mara said, “And I’m ready.”  
  
And it was then that they headed into battle.  
  
***  
  
In the war room, the Rebel Alliance gathered around the table, inspecting the display on the table that showed Yavin as well as the Death Star, looming above it almost like a creature out of a nightmare, orbiting Yavin IV, about to fire. Even being represented by nothing more than a red dot, the Death Star still seemed like something that had emerged from hell itself. Green dots continued to appear on the display screen, and everyone watched, completely still.  
  
Ben swallowed, feeling almost as if rocks had wedged themselves in his throat; he had already seen the Death Star in the aftermath of Alderaan. If that was anything close to what his parents had seen when they were about to die, when they were about to be all but immolated by the Death Star and its laser –  
  
 _Breathe,_ he told himself. _Breathe._ He tried to breathe almost like his father had taught him. And yet at the same time, he couldn’t. There was something in him almost caught by rage and fear and hatred – the Death Star, the thing that had killed his friends and family and so many people who hadn’t even done anything wrong…  
  
 _Breathe. Breathe._  
  
Ben forced air through his lungs, practically forced it, before turning back to the display. Over the intercom, he heard the voice, reciting, calmly, how much time the Death Star had until firing range. Fifteen minutes.  
  
In the back of the room, he could swear that he saw Owen and Beru stiffen, and Beru place an arm around Owen’s shoulder. Vader did the same with Padme.  
  
Ada turned towards him. “It’s going to be all right, Ben,” she said, softly. “Trust me on this.”  
  
Ben could only hope that she was right.  
  
***  
Even in between adjusting her controls as she, as well as the other X-wings, passed through the Death Star’s magnetic field, Mara could not help but be all but amazed. She had seen how large the Death Star was, like something out of a nightmare, but this – even as they neared it, she realized that it was far larger than she could have ever truly anticipated. Getting closer, she could make out the details, such as an antenna on its side, and the trench that seemed built into it. It seemed to loom in front of her almost like some sort of creature intent on swallowing its prey whole.  
  
Mara took a deep breath. _Calm down. You can do this. You’re going to be all right._  
  
Over her headset, Wedge’s voice echoed. He seemed to share her fear and her awe. “Look at the _size_ of that thing!”  
  
That, Mara thought, was quite the understatement.  
  
“Cut the chatter, Red Two,” Red Leader said crisply. “Accelerate to attack speed. This is it.”  
  
 _Yeah,_ Mara thought. _This is it._  
  
They got closer now, and Mara could see that what she had already seen just nearing the thing was just the tip of the iceberg. Half of the station she couldn’t say that she saw very well, but what she did see…it seemed to almost glitter, lighting the hard-to-see space station with an eerie sort of glow. Over her headset, she heard Red Leader and Gold Leader conversing, and Gold Leader’s, “We’re starting for the target shaft now.”  
  
Mara could only wish Gold Leader good luck. Considering the Death Star, she had a feeling that everyone involved in this mission was going to need it.  
  
“We’re in position,” Red Leader said, “I’m going to cut across the axis and try to draw their fire.”  
  
Mara, meanwhile, took a deep breath. _Just calm down. Think of it like when you were shooting womp rats in your T-16 with Luke and Biggs. Back when you were on Tatooine._  
  
And at least thinking of it that way, it seemed almost easy.  
  
 “This is Red Five,” Mara said, “I’m going in.”  
  
And she swooped in towards the Death Star. As she fired, it seemed almost as if the surface of the Death Star itself, gleaming in space, seemed to be rushing up to meet her. Nonetheless, she continued firing. For a moment, she remembered being back on Tatooine, racing with Luke against the sunrise, against the sunset, chasing sand dunes until the both of them were all but spent. Thinking of it that way was even easier. She continued firing at the Death Star, searching for weaknesses –  
  
\-- only to realize that none of this would work. The most that she had done was create a massive explosion. It was just in time that she managed to pull up, shaking.  
  
“Mara!” Over Mara’s headset, Biggs sounded frantic. “Are you okay?”  
  
“I’m good,” Mara said. “Still a little on edge from nearly being roasted, but I’m fine, thanks for asking.”  
  
And all around her, the X-wings continued firing on the Death Star, their blasts barely managing to scratch the Death Star’s surface.  
  
 _You’re going about this the wrong way._  
  
Terminus’ voice again. Mara sighed.  
  
“I’m kind of busy here,” she said. “ _We’re_ kind of busy.”  
  
 _I know that. I just want to know how you think that firing at the Death Star’s surface is a good idea. Don’t you remember the meeting? Dodonna said that the exhaust port is the best way._  
  
Mara took a deep breath. “I know that firing on the surface won’t do stang,” she said. “It’s just a distraction.”  
  
 _For what?_  
  
“For getting to the exhaust port,” Mara said. “It won’t do stang now, all of this, like I said, but it can give everyone else a chance.”  
  
***  
  
All around Ventress, it seemed almost as if the Death Star itself were collapsing. There was panic all around, the walls buckling and caving in, rubble flying everywhere. She couldn’t say that she was surprised that something like this would happen; the Empire, after all, knew nothing of those who would dare to stand against them. In finding a symbol if only to strike fear into those who opposed them, they only accelerated their own destruction. She stood there now, looking over the wreckage, feeling Vader’s presence on the moon below.  
Whatever Tarkin wanted to do, if only to stop the Rebellion, Ventress in all honesty did not want it to be that way. After all, both Terminus and Vader were on the moon below. Sith were not supposed to have attachments, that was all too true. And yet at the same time, Vader had looked after her when she had first been taken in. They had almost been akin to siblings, at least in a way. The closest one could be in the Sith to siblings. Tarkin was willing to do whatever it took if only to defend the Empire, to no doubt prove that he was right and the Rebellion was wrong, but whatever he did, he was not going to destroy Yavin IV. Not while Vader and Terminus were still on that planet.  
  
“Lady Ventress.” One of the soldiers ran towards her; Ventress could practically feel his distress. “We count thirty Rebel ships. But they’re so small that they’re evading our turbo-lasers!”  
  
So the Rebellion had finally gotten smarter. Ventress supposed that she could count this as something to admire about the Rebellion. They had managed to adapt. They had managed to get smarter. For all the fact that they were terrorists, traitors, and reprehensible idealists with an inflated idea of their own importance and a sort of devotion to the Old Republic – an institution that was hardly worth defending in the first place – they were resourceful when they wished to be.  
But if they could be resourceful, Ventress thought, so could the Empire.  
  
“We’re going to have to destroy them ship to ship,” she said, “Get the crew to their fighters.”  
  
And even as she walked off if only to her own fighter, Ventress could only hope, deep down, that she could at least find a way to end all of this without causing Vader and Terminus’ deaths. Because for all she wished to defend the Empire – even if there were some individuals in it who weren’t worth defending, and she could feel it deep within her bones – she didn’t wish to cause Vader and Terminus’ deaths. Because even after all this time, they were still very dear to her. The Sith were not supposed to have attachments – they seemed to regard love as being almost as bad as mercy, as a sort of sickness, and a weakness. It had been the downfall of such Sith as Darth Sion as well as Darth Revan, to name a few – and though she was not yet Sith (she was still a Dark Jedi, after all), she knew that this lesson was all too true for her. A lesson that though she tried, she doubted that she could ever truly learn.  
  
And she could only hope that she could get Vader and Terminus off the moon before it was destroyed. If it was destroyed with them on it…  
  
She reached out towards them in the Force. She felt them, Vader with the Chosen One herself, Padme Naberrie, and Terminus –  
  
 _Terminus. What have they done to you? Locking you up as if you were no more than an animal, and in the midst of a battle as well. When the lives of others on the base are at stake. Are they truly that irresponsible? You need to leave, now._  
  
And Ventress could only hope that Terminus and Vader both left in time.  
  
***  
It was deep in the prison that Terminus felt it. The Death Star – though it was not being destroyed necessarily, it was rocking violently enough to be all but mistaken for being about to be destroyed. He could feel others on the Death Star crying out in terror as the wrath of the Rebellion itself seemed to descend on them, firing at them, rattling the structure that they must have thought would be indestructible…  
  
And even after all this time, he felt a sudden pang of sadness inside him. Some of them more than deserved their fate, such as Grand Moff Tarkin, but most of them…they had done nothing wrong. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. That was hardly cause for annihilation. He closed his eyes, reaching out through the Force, trying to urge the others to get off the station. To influence them the best they could if only to leave. They didn’t deserve that fate. They didn’t deserve any of this.  
  
And it felt almost as if he was back in the Clone Wars, all these needless deaths, Separatist and Jedi and Dark Jedi and defender of the Republic and clonetrooper alike. People such as Matthew Travis, a reporter who had been especially prominent during the Clone Wars if only for his outspoken (to say the least) criticism of the Jedi and the Republic, liked to say things such as the fact that the Republic and the Jedi cared nothing for those who died.  
  
But they were wrong.  
  
Because Terminus…Terminus remembered everyone. And by the Force itself, it _hurt_ –  
  
Groans escaped him in that moment. It was almost frightening because, if nothing else, he had been so used to keeping his self-control when he was still a Jedi. He had been so used to simply letting go, to releasing his grief to the Force, to keeping his calm even when it seemed like the galaxy itself had collapsed all around him, and yet in that moment…he couldn’t even describe the sort of sounds that now escaped him in that moment. As if he was trying to cry, as if he was trying to let his grief escape at least, his anger that it was coming to this, more mindless violence, on the side of the Empire and the Rebellion, his grief at what had had happened and what was happening and what was yet to happen (even if the future was always in motion. Even if the future was still very much non-linear, far from predestined, and it was truly what they made of it in the end), but somehow, his tear ducts would not obey him. He supposed that it was very well. If he started crying, he couldn’t imagine what was about to happen.  
  
The guard turned to look at him now in concern. “Lord Terminus,” she said, if only softly, “Are you all right? You sounded like you were…” She bit her lip, seeming almost uncertain, if only for a moment, how to describe what was happening. “Like you were crying.”  
  
“I am,” Terminus said, and even speaking, his voice sounded almost as if it were shaking. “In a way.” Even speaking was difficult. Even breathing was difficult, more difficult than usual. “I’m crying for everyone, and what is yet to come.”  
  
***  
  
“Mara,” Red Leader said, over Mara’s intercom, “Let me know when you’re going in.”  
  
His X-wing now dived past Mara’s, through a heavy hail of flak. Mara barely managed to maneuver it out of the way in time. Even in her mind, she could feel something in her mind – something that, in truth, terrified her – her father’s grief, not towards anything in particular except for this very conflict that was going on. Did he fear that she would die? Did he fear for the others, whether they be Rebel or Imperial, and what would most likely happen to them? She reached out towards him if only gently; she couldn’t say that she was entirely good at this whole mental link thing – and in truth, it almost terrified her. The idea of Terminus being inside her head – but at the very least…  
  
 _It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay._ A beat. _We know what we’re doing._  
  
 _That’s what I was afraid of._  
  
Mara furrowed her brow. _You aren’t making sense, Father._ “Father” was probably the right word for Terminus. It would be a good way, at least, to distinguish him from Owen. It was strange, how she had called Owen “Dad” for so long, only for Terminus to enter the picture.  
 _Does any of this ever make sense?_ There was a hint of bleak humor in her father’s mental voice.  
  
 _We’re going to make it. I promise._  
  
 _It’s not all that I’m worried about. Though I do fear for you._ A beat. _Only remember, for all Alderaan deserves pity, for all it deserves justice for what Tarkin has done to it, remember that those on the Death Star are worthy of pity as well. They have done nothing, after all. They are hapless, they are helpless, simply remember that._  
  
And even feeling the chaos inside the Death Star, the fear and confusion from the other inhabitants who seemed honestly confused as to what was happening, Mara could not disagree. She reached towards them, through the Force. _It’s all right. Just get out of here as quickly as you can. You know what to do. Go for the exit._  
  
She could only pray that they managed to make it. After all, they hadn’t been the ones who pulled that trigger that had blown up Alderaan. They hadn’t been the ones who decided to destroy Yavin either. If Mara could at least prevent another senseless massacre, she would.  
And Terminus…she could swear that Terminus was practically _beaming_ in her head. His Force presence, while still tinged with sadness, seemed to lighten. _You truly are your mother’s daughter._  
  
And despite herself, despite everything that was happening, Mara grinned. Somehow, she thought, she could do this. She almost couldn’t believe it, but she could do this.  
  
Over the intercom of her X-wing, Mara said, “I’m on my way now.”  
  
“Watch yourself,” Red Leader said. “There’s plenty of fire coming from the right side of that deflection tower.”  
  
“Gotcha. I’m on it.” If she could at least take out that tower, stop it from firing at them, then she had pretty much all of this covered.  
  
***  
  
She had done it. Terminus almost hadn’t thought that she had it in her. And yet she had done where other Jedi could not – she had shown those on the Death Star mercy. Other Jedi – they had been so swept up in the currents of the Clone Wars that they had forgotten what it meant to be a Jedi. Compassion. Peace. Mercy. Master Yoda had said time and time again that wars did not make one great (or “Wars not make one great”, more precisely), and the Clone Wars had proven that all too well. They had turned good men and women into monsters, from people such as Quinlan Vos and Depa Billaba and he supposed himself who had succumbed to despair and fallen to the Dark Side of the Force to those who hadn’t fallen necessarily to the Dark Side, but hovered on the brink of it, such as Mace Windu. He had said to Padme once, when she had questioned him about that (and similar things), that as far as they’d fallen, he doubted they could rise any higher.  
  
He supposed the correct response was that he doubted they could fall any further. Or that it was very likely they could fall further. Because they had. _He_ had fallen further.  
  
And yet Mara…  
  
For all she had wounded him – albeit to defend others – she was a genuinely good young woman. He supposed, should they avoid being immolated in Yavin IV’s destruction, he should thank Owen and Beru Lars for raising her well. And thank Padme and Sabe for protecting her. Not for taking her and Ben away from him, but for protecting her…yes, he supposed he should thank them for that.  
  
It was then that he felt it. Ventress’ presence, all but begging him to leave. Urging him to leave. But he could not leave. He could not, not while others needed him. Not while Mara needed him. Not when the others on the Death Star needed, more than anything, to evacuate. He rubbed his helmet if only wearily.  
  
“Why would you cry for us?” the guard said. “I mean, I never thought…”  
  
“Because who will,” Terminus said, “If not me?”  
  
Because the Rebellion deserved more than enough weeping for what it had endured. But those who needed it most were the citizens of the Empire. Even the Emperor himself – what a life he could have led if not for whatever lies had led him far from home. If there had been any lies, any threats, at all.  
  
What had happened to them, in the end, every one of them, that had led them to this point? What had become of them?  
  
And what would become of them, in the future?  
  
***  
  
As Mara’s X-wing practically careened through the Death Star, speeding past the wall of laser fire that was now coming her way, she continued to fire wherever she could. She couldn’t necessarily fire at the tower; after all, the tower seemed to have more firepower than she could. But at the very least, if she could have some surface attacks, enough to at least provide some degree of distraction, she could at least do something. She was doing well, at the very least. She was still alive. She was still fighting. As long as she was still fighting, at the very least, she wasn’t dead. Which was, to say the least, a plus.  
  
It was over her headset that she heard a sort of crisp, male voice. “Squad leaders, we’ve picked up a new group of signals. Enemy fighters coming your way.”  
  
 _Well, stang._ “My scope’s negative,” Mara said. “I don’t see anything.”  
  
“Keep up your visual scanning. With all this jamming, they’ll be all over you before your scope can pick them up.”  
  
Mara sighed. Even looking over her visual scanner, it seemed to be fluctuating constantly. It was then that she heard Red Leader’s voice again over her headset. “Biggs! You’ve got one on your tail – watch it!”  
  
“I can’t see it!” Biggs, this time, sounding almost frantic. “Where is he?”  
  
“Just stay calm,” Mara said. “I’m coming to get you, Biggs, you got that?”  
  
“Just like old times, isn’t it, Mara?” Biggs’ voice seemed strained, as if he was vainly trying to crack a joke considering the situation that he was in.  
  
“Yeah. It is. Like I said, just stay calm, I’m coming to get you.”  
  
It was heading lower into the Death Star trenches that she saw it: Biggs, diving towards the Death Star surface, being pursued by a particularly determined TIE-fighter. Gleaming black in contrast with their white X-wings, it seemed to dog Biggs’ tail. In time, it was going to smoke Biggs out. It was going to kill him.  
  
Mara took a deep breath before firing on the TIE fighter. It went up in flames.  
  
“I’ve got him!” Mara said.  
  
“I knew you could do it!” Biggs said. “Thanks!”  
  
Mara grinned. “Just like old times, Biggs,” she said. “Just like old times.”  
  
***  
  
It was surrounded by Imperial stormtroopers that Ventress turned to the nearest TIE pilots. All things considered, considering the enemies that she was now up against, she was going to need all the help that she could get. She was not much of a pilot, but at the very least, she was relatively competent. It had been Vader who had been the stronger pilot of the group. He had a love for the sheer thrill of it, the splendor, firing at enemies, all but coasting through the explosions in the sky, and so much more. And Ventress supposed that in a sense, she could see its appeal, though she was not as much of a pilot as he was.  
  
And if she was going to defend the Death Star, to defend the Empire, she would do whatever it took. She was hardly as devoted and ruthless as Tarkin was – she knew that for all she was willing to do whatever it took if only to defend her master, to defend the Empire and the Sith in general, she would not go as far as Tarkin did in that moment – but she would defend the Empire or die trying.  
  
“Several fighters have broken off from the main group,” she said to the TIE pilots. “Follow me.”  
  
And even as they proceeded towards the hangar, Ventress knew that whatever happened, the Rebellion would not destroy the Death Star. She did not fear death in the name of serving a greater cause. What of them was the better question. Were they afraid to die? Did they fear dying, or did they not care about dying as long as it somehow served the greater cause?  
  
Whatever it took, she would defend the Empire, defend this Death Star. Even if it cost her her life.  
  
***  
  
It was standing with the others around the readout screen, watching the space battle go on and on, hearing the faint chatter of others telling Mara to pull up, to pull out, that Ben couldn’t help but feel anxious despite himself. The people of Rogue Squadron, the people of Gold Squadron, the people of all these Squadrons…they were noble people. They truly were. And yet there was something about the whole thing where he couldn’t help but be anxious. If Mara didn’t get out of there, if she were hurt or killed, if they somehow failed to destroy the Death Star before it destroyed them –  
  
Being Alderaanian, Ben was not one for the kill-or-be-killed sort of mentality. It was the sort of mentality that he simply couldn’t get behind. No matter the circumstances, there was no need to take a human life. And yet this…this was one of those areas where he feared that they damn had no other choice but this. Because, damn, he thought, this wasn’t the matter of kill-or-be-killed. This was for the sake of the galaxy. Saving the galaxy from suffering the fate of Alderaan. His planet, his home. And, Ben thought, even as he turned if only towards Ada and the others, their planet, their home. They couldn’t let other planets suffer the same fate. Even hearing things like, “Mara, watch your back, the fighter’s coming in!” and “Red Six, can you see Red Five?” and Mara’s frantic, “I can’t seem to shake him!” was enough to make Ben bite his lip and turn away. He didn’t want to see what was going to happen next. He was praying on the inside that at the very least, Mara would make it out of there, and yet there was something in him telling him that there was no chance. For all intents and purposes, they were fighting against the incarnation of evil itself with all its forces, and they couldn’t win.  
  
It was then that he saw it. The TIE fighter that was pursuing Mara, its dot going out. Mara’s dot seemed to shake if only slightly. And Wedge’s dot, being the one who had done it.  
Ben sighed in relief, rubbing his head wearily. To think that they had come close enough to Mara getting hurt or killed –  
  
“Thanks, Wedge.” Even Mara’s voice sounded relieved. “I owe you one.”  
  
“No problem, Red Five.”  
  
Ben smiled if only in spite of himself. And yet there was something in him that couldn’t help but be anxious. _Mara_ , he thought, _Get to that Death Star, and soon._  
  
“She’s going to be all right.” Kitster, this time. “She’s stronger than you know.”  
  
Ben could only hope so. He turned back towards the readout screen, watching the battle again, hoping, at the very least, that they would survive this. They’d been fighting multiple losing battles for too long. It was time for them to at least get some semblance of the upper hand.  
  
***  
  
Mara sighed in relief even as she looked behind towards the wing of her X-wing. Honestly, other than being a bit cooked, they were okay. And for that, she was grateful.  
  
“You all right back there, Artoo?” she asked.  
  
The astromech gave an affirmative whistle.  
  
“That’s good.” Mara couldn’t pat his dome, but she could at least smile. “Good soldier. You’ve done great thus far.”  
  
The astromech whistled, obviously pleased with the compliment.  
  
It was over the headset that Mara heard the voice of Gold Leader. “This is Gold Leader. We’re starting our attack run.”  
  
“I copy, Gold Leader.” Red Leader, this time. “Move into position!”  
  
And Mara and the others moved their X-wings into position. Already, Mara was anxious. As far as she knew, they were making dents in the Death Star, but they were just dents. It had been good at the very least for being a distraction, but otherwise…  
  
Even hearing it all over her headset, the audio of various members of Gold Squadron dying, and Gold Five’s obvious distress even as he reported it – “Lost Tyree, lost Dutch…” – Mara took a deep breath even as she continued to listen, even as she all but felt the people in her mind dying, those horrible sort of echoes, those screams of terror that didn’t seem to let up. She tried to calm herself, tried if only vainly to tell herself to not panic, and yet how could she not? All these people dying, and meanwhile, the Death Star was still closing in on Yavin –  
  
 _Just calm down. Just keep on target._  
  
And she continued along with the others, firing at the Death Star, at its towers, trying to evade the laser fire and other things as much as she possibly could. Because they were not going to let the Death Star take out Yavin. Even managing to do some damage to some of the towers firing at them, to the Death Star’s surface, to some of the TIE fighters practically converging on them like things out of a nightmare, Mara felt at least some degree of assurance. They had this. They weren’t going to simply panic.  
  
And if they were going to die, they were going to give the Empire something to remember them by.  
  
 _Give them hell, Mara,_ she told herself. _Remember what Han and Owen wanted. Give them hell._  
  
***  
  
It was in the Death Star control room that Grand Moff Tarkin stood, and even amidst the chaos of the Death Star, it shaking, he couldn’t help but feel that in terms of the Empire and its many victories, they had never truly risen any higher. This was their moment. They were about to destroy Yavin IV, to destroy the Rebels for good, to make sure that they would never cause the Empire any degree of trouble ever again. They were about to achieve perhaps their finest victory. Even hearing the minutes left until they were about to reach the Rebel Base – “Rebel base, four minutes and closing” – Tarkin felt something in him that was almost akin to excitement. And more than that, joy. This…this was the moment that he was truly waiting for. This was the moment where they would destroy the Rebels once and for all.  
And yet the Chief Officer beside him seemed nervous, unwilling to damn share in the glory of their imminent victory. “We’ve analyzed their attack, sir, and there is a danger.”  
  
“There’s hardly a danger.” If nothing else, Tarkin thought, how could the Rebels even so much as be a danger? Their attacks were ineffectual; they seemed to just rattle the battle station, not truly make any sort of impact. They couldn’t hope to stop the Empire’s ultimate weapon. They couldn’t hope to stop the Empire. They simply couldn’t.  
  
“Nevertheless, sir,” the Chief Officer said, “Should I order a stand by?”  
  
How could he so much as even say that?  
  
“Evacuate?” Tarkin said. “In our moment of triumph? I think you overestimate their chances.”  
  
Over the intercom, the crisp voice said, “Rebel base, three minutes and closing”, and Tarkin smiled. This was their hour. This would be the hour that they would crush the Rebellion once and for all. And from there, no power in the galaxy would be able to stop them.  
  
***  
  
“Red Group.” Red Leader’s voice echoed over Mara’s headset. “This is Red Leader. Rendez-vous at mark six point one.”  
  
“I copy, Red Leader,” Mara said.  
  
Over Mara’s headset, Wedge’s voice. “This is Red Two. Flying towards you.”  
  
And then Biggs. “Red Three, standing by.”  
  
“Good to see that you’re all right, Red Three,” Mara said over her headset.  
  
“Same here, Red Five.”  
  
It was then that Dodonna’s calm, assured voice cut into the matter of their brief chatter. “Red Leader, this is Base One. Keep half your group out of range for the next run.”  
  
“Copy, Base One,” Red Leader said. “Red Five, take Two and Three with you. Hold up there and wait for my signal to start your run.”  
  
“Copy that, Red Leader,” Mara said. _And hope that this goes well._ The best that they had on their side was luck and skill. And a determination to give the Empire something to remember them by, at the very least.  
  
It was then that they started their run. And even gliding over the Death Star’s surface, heading towards the Death Star’s exhaust port, heading through the trenches, Mara was almost reminded, in spite of herself, of the garbage chute walls, and how close they seemed if only for that terrifying moment. In contrast, though, they seemed wider apart, almost, she thought, as if they were built for an attack such as this. Although, Mara thought, they probably weren’t expecting someone to be flying through the trenches towards the exhaust port to try and destroy it.  
  
 _Just stay calm,_ she thought. _Do what Red Leader says, and you’ll be able to live through this._ At the very least, she hoped.  
  
It was then that she heard Terminus’ voice inside her mind. _You truly, honestly, think that following instructions alone is going to help you in this time? They won’t._  
  
“Not _now_ ,” Mara muttered.  
  
 _You’re going to have to trust your instincts. I think now would be a good time to put your Force training to work._  
  
Mara could only briefly remember what Padme had said, about the matter of reaching out with your feelings. But this…this was a space battle. At least in lightsaber combat, you could sort of go with something like that. But this…  
  
She could still remember Han’s words, about being good against machines vs. being good against the living. She supposed that in a way, Han was right. The Death Star was very much a machine, but they had plenty of already living obstacles in their way before they got to the exhaust port and managed to fire the necessary shots into it.  
  
Over Mara’s headset, she heard Red Leader’s voice. “This is it!” His voice was heavy now, and it was more than obvious that he seemed to be straining, sweating even. Mara took a deep breath in that moment, scanning her targeting computer if only to make sure that there weren’t any TIE fighters around. Not that that was easy. If nothing else, it seemed to be glitching, almost as if…  
  
“Keep your eyes open for those fighters!” Red Leader said.  
  
“No sign of them,” Mara said. “Too much interference on my computer. I can’t say what’s wrong, unless the Empire decided to jam our transmissions.” She scanned the Death Star’s surface from the cockpit. It was then that she saw the familiar flash of ebony. Three flashes, actually. And it was then that Mara saw something that made her shake her head. “Oh, you must be joking…”  
  
Because one of the TIE pilots – she could swear that she felt the Force flowing from them. A sort of scorching presence that felt, almost, like a whole explosion of hatred and rage was just flowing from the TIE pilot in question.  
“What is it, Red Five?” Red Leader said.  
  
“TIE pilots. And I think one of them is a Force user.” Mara took a deep breath. “You guys are going to have to be careful with this.”  
“I see them, Red Five. We’d best get to the exhaust port immediately.”  
  
They headed towards the exhaust port in that moment. Mara watched her targeting computer – which seemed to at least be coming back to normal, at the very least – the exhaust port seemed to be getting closer and closer, which was definitely good. She could at least hope, in that moment, that they could try and get to the exhaust port in time. And not be roasted by TIE fighters. That would definitely be a plus, she thought. Even as she heard the dying screams of the other X-wing pilots – Red Ten, Red Twelve, and others – over her headset, heard their dying screams through the Force, she swore that she felt her eyes growing hot with tears. She doubted that she could see the computer very well in that moment.  
  
“Are you all right, Red Five?” Red Leader, this time.  
  
“Affirmative, Red Leader,” Mara said. She couldn’t afford to, in that moment, let her emotions get the better of her. She couldn’t afford to start crying. Not when they still had the mission. _It’s all right, Mara. Stay calm. Stay on target._  
 _Stay on target._  
  
Yes, she thought, that was definitely a good way to get her through this.


	23. Downfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Battle of Yavin ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Well, this is nearly the end. It's been a fun ride, really. I'm going to miss this. Also, really liked this chapter. I really think it wrapped up the Battle of Yavin nicely.

  
People had their various reasons for joining the Rebellion. It could be anything, for glory, for the sake of idealism, for the sake of doing what was right, but if one was to ask why Garvin Dreis joined the Rebellion, it could be summed up in four words: the Siege of Virujansi. Garvin Dreis had been marginally aware of how ruthless the Empire could truly be, but it was another thing to see it truly in action. To see the Imperial Navy and the Imperial stormtroopers shooting down innocent civilians, raining down fire on innocent towns, on people who hadn’t done anything, all for no reason at all…the Empire probably thought that it would keep the people in line. But it didn’t.  
  
Instead, it had started a revolution. People who hadn’t damn thought of starting a rebellion rising up if only to fight back. The Empire would probably be baffled at why they were fighting back, but when they were in people’s homes or burning their homes and killing civilians, were they damn surprised that people were going to up and fight back? Because they would. And Garvin Dreis knew that no matter what happened, he wasn’t going to let down his men. The people of Rogue Squadron. People who, though they came from all sorts of different backgrounds and experiences, were good men and women willing to do whatever possible if only to fight back against the Empire. To make a better galaxy. A galaxy where others didn’t have to live in fear of being hunted, arrested, tortured, or killed, or having their loved ones suffer the same fate.  
  
The Empire didn’t learn, did they? After Virujansi, there was Despayre, and now there was Alderaan. After all this time, they hadn’t realized, they simply, honestly, hadn’t realized that when you attempted to rule through fear, the people wouldn’t bow. They weren’t meant for that. They weren’t meant to bow or break.  
  
In the face of injustice and horrific cruelty, what else were they made for if not to fight back?  
  
It was then, looking into the targeting computer, that Garvin Dreis, Red Leader, took a deep breath and prepared his shot. _Don’t fail me now, computer._  
  
And he fired. Over his headset, he heard Red Nine’s, “It’s away!” and, as it impacted, “It’s a hit!” But Red Nine was wrong. There was nothing. Nothing but at least minor explosions, hardly the larger one that they were aiming for. For all intents and purposes, he had been so close and yet he missed.  
  
He rubbed his head. “Negative, negative. It didn’t go in. It just impacted on the surface.”  
  
Red Five’s voice came over his headset, a sort of crisp, calm voice; for all intents and purposes, Red Leader thought, she wouldn’t make a shabby leader herself. A lot like her dad, long ago. “Red Leader, we’re right above you. Turn to point oh-five; we’ll cover for you.”  
A bit _too_ much like her dad. Red Leader smiled if only a bit before snapping back into professional leader mode. “Stay there, Red Five. I think I lost my starboard engine. Get ready to make your attack run.”  
  
It was then that he felt the laser fire hit his ship. For all he attempted to maneuver away if only as best he could, he couldn’t dodge the laser fire forever. There was then a wall of light flashing in front of his eyes, and then there was nothing at all.  
  
***  
  
“He’s gone.” Even hearing Biggs’ voice over her headset, the usually cheerful young pilot sounded almost shaken. “He…he’s gone.”  
  
 _I know_ , Mara wanted to say. _I know._ She tried if only to keep her breathing steady, and yet at the same time, she couldn’t. Red Leader, their leader, gone in pretty much an instant, just killed so very quickly…  
  
She took a deep breath. “Just stay on target,” she said, “Just like he would have wanted. Let’s close it in. We’re going in full throttle.”  
  
Wedge’s voice came over her headset in that moment. “Right with you, boss.”  
  
Mara looked if only briefly towards the wreckage of space where Red Leader’s X-wing now floated. Her throat clenched. How old had he been? In his forties, really. He had died if only saving them, and yet she doubted there was ever more of a series of pointless deaths as there were in that battle.  
  
“We’re going to make you proud,” she said, if only to the vastness of space where Red Leader’s X-wing now floated. “I promise you.”  
  
 _There’s no time for grief. Put these feelings aside and attack the Death Star._ Terminus’ voice was steady in that moment. _Switch off your targeting computer._  
  
“Are you completely insane?” Mara shook her head. “I can’t just do that…”  
  
 _Trust your feelings. Red Leader failed to reach the exhaust port because he relied too much on the targeting computer. Reach out through the Force. Can you feel anything?_  
  
Mara reached out in that moment. Around her, there were the TIE fighters, clustering behind them. There was one of them, reaching out if only to fire at Biggs. Mara turned around, reaching through the Force even as she fired on the TIE fighter.  
  
The TIE fighter burst into flames. Mara could practically feel it vibrating through the Force, the sudden shock that this happened. And even looking upon where the TIE fighter used to be, Mara doubted that she had ever felt more uncertain, or more afraid. _This…this is what it’s like to die._ All these people who had perished in this battle in that moment, never thinking that death would come for them. Never thinking that death would claim them. Death claimed them when they were most unprepared. Some had escaped death in the nick of time, but not all of them. And to die…  
  
Mara squeezed her eyes shut. Even, “Good shooting, Red Five!” from Biggs was enough to make her smile, but there was sadness in it. This was death. This was what it was like to fight in this war. There was nothing about it that was glamorous or beautiful. There was nothing about it that was glorious. They were just doing this to defend others who couldn’t so much as defend themselves.  
  
And to defend her friends. Those that were still left, at least.  
  
 _Do not despair._ Padme’s voice now echoed in her mind. _Only remember, Mara; there is no death, there is the Force._  
  
And there was something about that that was enough to calm Mara if only slightly. She couldn’t say that she was entirely happy with it – she could still remember all too well the screams of the dying in her head, the screams of Alderaan, the screams of the fighters who had died in that moment – and yet there was something about it that was enough to give her some comfort.  
  
And yet…  
  
“They died, Padme,” she said. “They all died. They just…burned like that. There wasn’t even any meaning behind it. There wasn’t any reason to it.”  
  
Silence. _I know,_ Padme said, and there was sadness in her voice, the sort of sadness as if she was saying that she knew this all too well. _I too have experienced the horrors of such a war. People, good, wonderful people and horrible, near-irredeemable people and everyone in between those extremes, dying senselessly and needlessly. But death isn’t all there is. They are with the Force, and the Force will protect them._  
  
Mara supposed that was right. After all, if the Force bound all living things, who said that it could not protect the dead as well? At least in a way. She took a deep breath.  
  
 _Fight for the living and the dead as well. Keep going. It’s what Red Leader would have wanted._ Padme’s voice was gentle, but also commanding. _It’s your duty, Mara. Keep going._  
  
Mara took a deep breath in that moment and dove towards the Death Star. Over her headset, she heard Biggs’ voice. “Mara, at that speed are you sure that you’ll be able to pull out in time?”  
  
“Why not?” Mara said. “It’ll be just like Beggar’s Canyon back home.”  
  
A faint laugh came from Biggs. “Yeah,” he said. “It definitely will.”  
  
***  
  
Terminus had spoken much about this presence that he had felt back on Tatooine, the presence that he had become all but obsessed with finding, but Ventress hadn’t expected to feel the girl’s strength for herself. In many ways, in a lot of ways, actually, he was very much right. She was strong for her age. Foolish, yes, reckless, yes, woefully sentimental like her father – no matter how he had tried to hide it – but nonetheless, strong. Even as she chased the girl through the trench, even as she fought against the towers, even as her astromech seemed to struggle to repair the X-wing where Ventress’ previous blasts had hit it, Ventress felt, almost in spite of herself, a strange sort of admiration for the girl. She was foolish, yes, but there was no denying that she had skill.  
  
She reached through the Force now, aiming towards the X-wing on the girl’s left side. If she could at least find a way to isolate the young Force user, Mara Lars, if only to get to her, then this would be all too easy.  
  
It reminded her too well of fighting back in the wars. Fighting for her master, fighting against the Jedi, if only to exterminate them, if only to bring their arrogance, their corruption, their cruelty, to an end. Fighting alongside Vader, before he had turned, and even, she thought, beside Terminus. She could only hope that Vader and Terminus had managed to escape the moon below. But then again, Ventress thought, they had always been stupidly noble. They wouldn’t run so easily. And there was something about it that only made Ventress angrier. Angry at Tarkin, angry at the Emperor for commissioning this Death Star. But mostly angry at Tarkin. He didn’t care how many civilians he killed, he didn’t care if even his own troops – in this case, Vader and Terminus – were on the moon below. He was going to destroy the Rebel base. He had gone mad. He cared nothing as long as the Rebellion was destroyed.  
  
And that…that, Ventress knew, would be his downfall.  
  
***  
  
“Red Five, Red Three…I’m sorry.” Wedge’s voice sounded so very faint even to Mara’s ears. “I’m going to have to pull out. I can’t stay with you.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Mara said. “Get as clear as you can.”  
  
And even as Wedge headed off, Mara heard Biggs’ voice. “You’ve got to hurry. They’re closing in on me. I don’t know how long I can hold them.”  
  
Mara swallowed. “I’m on my way. Artoo, try and increase the power!”  
  
And in the back of the X-wing, Artoo beeped frantically even as he tried to increase the power. Mara headed now towards Biggs, where the two TIE fighters had now converged on him in that moment. She took a deep breath, reaching through the Force again even as she aimed at the TIE fighter that was about to fire on Biggs –  
  
\-- and it was in that moment that she was too late. Biggs’ ship was hit. It was already smoking badly.  
  
“I’m going to have to pull out for a bit,” Biggs said. “I’m sorry, Mara.”  
  
Mara swallowed. It looked, she thought, as if she was on her own now. “Do what you’ve got to do, Biggs. Just trust me on this.”  
  
Biggs retreated, and it was in that moment that Mara turned towards the trenches. “All right,” she said. “Looks like it’s just you and me now.”  
  
She switched off the targeting computer. She would have to go by instinct, at least in that moment. In the Force, she could practically feel the TIE fighter pilot’s relish even as she was about to pull the trigger. The sort of hatred and coldness and rage that was enough to scare her. She doubted that anyone, any living being, could damn have such hatred in them.  
  
She took a deep breath, reaching through the Force; it was over the headset that she heard Dodonna’s voice. “Red Five – you seem to have switched off the targeting computer. Is there something wrong?”  
“I’m all right,” Mara said. “I’m just making my run.”  
  
And she started towards the exhaust port in that moment, reaching through the Force, looking if only to search for the weakest point of the Death Star. She could hear Artoo’s frantic beeping, and she steered her X-wing out of the way of the TIE pilot’s blasts just in time, not looking back. She couldn’t afford to look back, not when the mission was at stake.  
  
Through the Force, she could feel the TIE pilot’s increasing frustration. Their rage. Even as they continued to fire at Mara, managing to miss in time even as Mara anticipated their blasts, Mara knew that she couldn’t damn evade the TIE pilot’s fire forever. And the TIE pilot was getting slightly more accurate. Her fighter was already suffering some damage –  
  
\-- and it was then that she felt something. The TIE pilot – the fighter, in the Force, seemed to have trembled. Mara looked up from her X-wing, only to start laughing if only in relief. Han was back. The _Millennium Falcon_ , practically hovering up in the sky – and through the Force, she could feel Han’s absolute glee. This was the sort of thing that he was made for. This was what he had been waiting for.  
  
The TIE pilot, on the other hand, seemed to only get angrier. They began blasting furiously at Mara again, Mara managing to dodge in time, only for a sudden explosion to wrack their fighter, leaving them tumbling off into space.  
  
Over her headset, Mara heard Han’s voice. “Sorry I’m late, kiddo; it was kind of a long road back here.”  
  
“It’s all right.” Mara laughed. “Honestly, I can’t believe you’re back.”  
  
“You’d better believe it. Let’s blow this thing and go home.”  
  
It was then that Mara reached through the Force again, towards the Death Star, towards the exhaust port. She could still feel the people still inside, running towards the hangar, making their escape, and some who stayed behind. Tarkin, for example. And the gunner, trying to buy enough time.  
  
And it was then that Mara felt it in him. He had been the one who had pulled the trigger. And yet there was no relish in him. If nothing else, Mara found only guilt. A sort of horrifying, ravaging guilt that seemed to be slowly killing him.  
  
She didn’t want to kill him. After all, he had done nothing wrong but simply pull the trigger, if only on Tarkin’s orders. And yet what other choice did she have? The Death Star was about to fire on the moon below. She reached into his mind now, trying to offer whatever comfort she could. She was far from good at this, but if she could almost communicate with Terminus over this link, why not now?  
  
 _It’s all right. You’re going to be all right. None of this was your fault._  
  
She reached into the Force now, pushed the button in that moment.  
  
 _I forgive you._  
  
And the Death Star exploded. Even in her mind, Mara could feel it, a whole wall of fire and flame and explosions, those aboard either screaming, furious or frightened, unable to comprehend what was truly happening, or quietly accepting their fate. Tarkin seemed to be almost in shock in that moment – and yet somehow, Mara thought, even though feeling Tarkin’s shock that his superweapon had ultimately failed was more than a deserved thing for the Grand Moff, she almost didn’t feel satisfied. Not for the deaths aboard that superweapon. After all, it wasn’t necessarily about death. If there was a way to avoid another murder, she would do it gladly.  
  
But she had at least managed to give the Empire hell, as she should have. She had saved those on Yavin IV from suffering a terrible fate. And that, combined with Terminus’ mingled pride and sadness coming over their link, as well as Han’s “Great shot, Mara; that was one in a million!”, was enough to make her smile if only through the sudden sadness that came over her.  
  
She headed back towards Yavin IV. The war was far from over, she knew that. The Empire would probably find new ways to retaliate. But whatever it took, they would meet the Empire in battle nonetheless.


	24. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara heads back to Yavin IV and the celebration begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: First off, happy Christmas Eve to everyone! This was actually one of my favorite chapters to write, and while I say that about a lot of the chapters (I think in the end, all the chapters were my favorites. I don't think I could pick one. I definitely had my difficulties writing some of them, but in the end, I love them all), this especially is awesome, even though tying up the ending was a little bit tough (there's going to be an epilogue to come, BTW; it's not quite over yet). I think it was definitely the interactions between Mara and her friends, Threepio's words about Artoo (I definitely wanted to give that sort of Aw Look They Really Do Love Each Other sort of feeling to their relationship), and Padme's talk with Mara about killing (I thought I'd address the psychological effect of Mara doing something like that for the first time) that I really loved writing.
> 
> I definitely hope you enjoy!

It was heading back towards Yavin IV, disembarking the X-wing, that Mara was surrounded by her friends and family abruptly embracing her, Sabe and Beru saying, “Thank goodness you’re okay!” and Leia saying, “You did it! I can’t believe it; you did it!” and Ben’s “I am so very proud of you” and Threepio’s “Thank the maker!” and Vader, his voice all but cracking, saying, “I thought you would die up there” before practically crushing her in a hug and the crew of the _Tantive IV_ embracing her as well. It was through that that she saw Han, who gave her a sort of mischievous smile. She returned the grin if only quickly. Then she faltered.  
  
“I didn’t think that you’d come back,” she said.  
  
“Of course I would. Well,” Han said, “I was intending on just leaving, but someone,” and he mock-scowled at Chewbacca even as he said it, “Kept pestering me to go back. Said something about not leaving one’s friends behind.”  
  
“I knew there was more to you than money,” Mara said, smiling.  
  
“Don’t get sentimental on me, kiddo. I’m still out for money. But I’m not leaving you behind. There’s the difference.”  
  
Mara laughed. Han could keep telling himself that all he wanted. For all intents and purposes, he and Chewie were part of the team now.  
  
It was across the room that she spotted Padme. Padme didn’t say anything, but her smile, a mixture of joy and sadness, said it all. Mara returned the smile, if only quickly. It was then she turned towards the ship at Threepio’s, “Oh no!”  
  
They fished Artoo from the back of the ship. The astromech was already fried from his experience, from the multiple laser scores that he’d suffered. Threepio’s voice became distressed even as he said, “Artoo, can you hear me?”  
  
“It’s all right. Don’t panic.” One of the pit crew stepped out. “Looks like he took a few hits from one of the TIE fighters.”  
  
“He isn’t too badly damaged, is he?” Mara almost couldn’t imagine the idea of Artoo basically being fried beyond repair. She reached out, gently, to place a hand on the astromech’s dome.  
  
Artoo beeped if only softly. “I’VE SEEN WORSE.”  
  
Mara laughed if only despite herself. Then she turned towards the technician. “You can repair him, can you?”  
  
“If any of my circuits or gears will help,” Threepio said in that moment, “I’ll gladly donate them!”  
  
Mara grinned. For all Threepio and Artoo bickered, she thought, when things got bad – or seemingly bad – Threepio was more than ready to be there for Artoo.  
  
“I don’t think it will be necessary,” the technician said. “But it’s very noble of you.”  
  
Even as they carted Artoo off, Mara placed a hand on Threepio’s golden arm. “He’ll be all right, Threepio,” she said. “He’s a tough little thing. Like all of us.” She gestured towards Han, Leia, and the others. “You don’t get this far without somehow being tough.”  
  
“I suppose you’re right.” Threepio seemed to calm if only slightly. “Still…I can’t say I could imagine what would happen if the damage was worse. I mean…he is the only friend I’ve got.”  
  
“Don’t say that,” Mara said. “You’ve got us.”  
  
“You too. But Artoo – he’s always been with me. Through the best of times, and the worst. He may be an irritating, reckless, impulsive little thing who needs plenty of looking after,” Threepio said, “And who gives me plenty of grief for it. But he is my friend.”  
  
“Yeah,” Mara said. In a way, one could say that it summed up just about everyone here. They may have gotten on each other’s nerves plenty on this journey, but they were going to be with one another until the end. And perhaps the end. She smiled if only in spite of herself. “Yeah, we definitely are.”  
  
It was back in her room before the ceremony – Wedge and Biggs seemed to be perfectly well, and took time to congratulate her on what happened, what with Biggs’ “That’s my girl; I knew you would do it!” and Wedge’s “You wouldn’t make a bad leader yourself.” – that Mara at least tried to focus on the holofilm that was being shown in that moment. Some sort of cheesy holofilm about a detective. Even watching it, even getting to listen to some of Rogue Squadron’s – such as Hobbie Klivian and Wes Janson, who she had a feeling she was going to get along with very well – sarcastic comments on the film, there was something in Mara that wouldn’t let up. The matter of the people who had died in this mission. The matter of the people she had watched die, and the matter of the people whom she had killed. In the end, she had ultimately had the most body count. Not just the TIE fighters she had killed, but everyone on that Death Star. She at least took comfort in the matter of those who had managed to at least escape in time, but even that…was that truly a happy ending, she wondered. They had done the right thing. There was no doubt about it. But at the same time, she knew full well that the Empire wouldn’t stop until they were dead or arrested. Preferably dead.  
  
She took a deep breath, trying to focus more on the film. The detective was inspecting the old house. Wes Janson was cracking some jokes related to Ewoks, and though Mara was laughing, there was something on the inside that wouldn’t stop eating at her. _I’ve killed these people. I’ve done this._  
  
Somehow, she thought, victory damn wasn’t as glorious as people made it out to be in the holofilms. In the holofilms, it was defeat the bad guy, go home. But here, it wasn’t that simple. Because most of the people save for Tarkin and some of the Imps who had died on that Death Star…they hadn’t really been evil. They’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but they weren’t evil.  
  
It was then that Padme entered. The others turned to look at her.  
  
“I thought I’d just join you,” Padme said.  
  
Silence.  
  
“No problem,” Wedge said. “Seriously. We could use the company.”  
  
Padme sat next to Mara. Even as the film continued playing on, even as Wes continued making his comments, she turned to look towards Mara. “You seemed distressed,” she said. “I felt it in the Force, so I came.”  
  
“Did I?” Mara supposed that it was a ridiculous question, but she hadn’t realized that she had been broadcasting that loudly. “Yeah, I…I kind of did. I kind of am.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to describe it, Padme. I mean…I felt them die. I contributed to some of them dying. Not Rogue Squadron, but…the others. On the Death Star. And…I don’t know how to deal with that. There’s no real way to deal with that.”  
  
Padme placed her hand on Mara’s shoulder. “You did what you could,” she said. “You may have killed, but all of us, all of us who have partaken in war have.”  
  
Somehow, that wasn’t reassuring. “So there’s more to come, then?”  
  
“Yes,” Padme said. “I’m not going to lie to you. And it’s going to be hard. It’s going to be a hard road to victory. If it was possible, I would do anything to make sure that the war ends without bloodshed, but the Emperor won’t be so generous.” She ran a hand through her hair. “It’s a fool’s hope, Mara, but it’s hope nonetheless. And a fool’s hope is better than none at all.”  
  
Mara smiled if only faintly. “Yeah,” she said. “You’re right.” She took a deep breath. “We’re not going to be alone in this, are we?”  
  
“Never,” Padme said. “And whatever it takes, I’m going to make sure that you’re trained. No matter what.”  
  
She placed a hand on Mara’s shoulder, almost as if quietly reassuring her that if nothing else, she wasn’t alone in this, and whatever deaths she had committed personally, she was far from a bad person. And if nothing else, there was plenty of people to fight for. Good men and women, whom they would fight for until they were free.  
  
That…yes, Mara thought, they could definitely do that.  
  
It was much later that they were called to the ceremony. Even walking through the crowd of people, dressed in her fancy green celebration dress, next to Han, who was still wearing his smuggler’s clothes, and Chewbacca, who seemed almost bewildered, Mara could not help but be in awe by the amount of soldiers surrounding them in that moment. The Rebel soldiers, standing in silent deference even as they walked towards the people there. Threepio, newly shiny, and Artoo, very much repaired, beeping cheerfully at Mara even as she approached. Mara grinned, before turning towards Ben and Leia, who stood with the Rebel leaders, dressed in white. Ben turned to look at Mara, grinning, and Leia’s smile was the brightest of all even as they handed the medals to Mara, Han and Chewie. Even feeling it around her neck, Mara suddenly felt her eyes grow almost wet, even looking up at Leia. _A medal_. She felt, at least for a moment, that the medal – this was such an important thing, and to think that she had earned it, and that Han had earned it as well, and Chewie – she looked up at Leia, grinning back. They had done it. There had been much hardship and much struggle and sorrow, but they had done it. There would be much more to come, but they had done it.  
  
They then turned around to face the crowd, the crowd of Rebels that now bowed to them, and it was in the crowd that Mara saw Sabe and Padme, staring up at her if only for a moment with pride in their eyes, before they bowed. And Mara could feel it, her mother’s pride and her mentor’s pride practically radiating in her mind, as bright as the twin suns themselves.  
  
There would be plenty more to come. Mara already knew that there would.  
  
But whatever happened, they would be able to face it, and that…that, in the end, was what mattered most. She would be able to face it, with everything she had, with her friends by her side. For they were a team. _The_ team.  
  
And as far as she knew, they would always be.


	25. Epilogue: Life As A Rebel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a new life begins for Mara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Merry Christmas, everyone!

_Mara Lars-Kenobi’s Log, Day One._  
  
 _This is pretty much my first log. I don’t think I’ve ever tried keeping things like this, if we’re going to be perfectly honest here. I mean, the most I’ve tried to do was try and keep some stuff on flimsiplast when I was probably thirteen years old, and I can’t say that that lasted very long. But I think considering that I’m going to be in the Rebellion for a very long time, keeping a log is definitely going to be coming in handy._  
  
 _It’s been two days since the Battle of Yavin IV. It’s still strange, knowing that I’m part of the Rebellion now. Knowing that for all intents and purposes, that I’m a hero. After the celebration, we had a funeral for the people who died in the battle. Even seeing all these people come up and pay their respects, even making a speech myself – I can’t say that I knew them terribly well. I felt them die. It was almost as if just for a moment, I was inside their heads, feeling what they felt. The gunner – I can’t say I even knew his name. That’s the worst part; I killed that man and I didn’t even so much as know his name – and his guilt over destroying Alderaan (and I just wonder what sort of lies and threats they fed him to make him do something like this. It’s one of many reasons that the Empire has to be stopped. I know that), all those people fleeing the Death Star – not to mention Red Leader and some of the pilots who died. Garven Dreis. John D. Branon. Jek Tono Porkins. Elyhek Rue. Bren Quersey. Nozzo Naytaan. Theron Nett. Wenton Chan. Puck Naeco. Jon Vander. Tiree. So many others during the Battle of Yavin. We also held a ceremony for the people who died during the battle of Alderaan. Even just watching the funeral, watching Ben and Leia pay their respects and say a few Alderaanian prayers, it’s enough to make me wonder why the Empire would do such a thing. What they would hope to accomplish._  
  
 _It’s things like this that remind me why the Empire has to be fought. It’s not glamorous, it’s not beautiful, it’s not glorious, but someone has to fight in it for others who can’t or won’t. Someone has to free them. And in times like these, who else are you going to call but us?_  
 _The Empire can call us terrorists – from what I can gather, they’ve already found a way to make it look like we were the villains and they were the heroes, the little schuttas – all they want. But in the end, we’re fighting if only so the galaxy won’t have to live in fear anymore._  
 _No Empire should be built on the backs of fear._  
  
 _And there’s plenty of other things that I have to do while I’m in the Rebellion. I can’t run off yet. I still have things to do. I have to perfect my Jedi skills. I might have taken off Terminus’ leg in our first fight – and I wonder, if I had known that he was my father, would I have done it? I know I would have done anything if only to save Mom and Dad, but even so…would I have done it? – and done my share of damage during Yavin, but I still have a lot of training to do. I can’t go against the Empire untrained, in more ways than one. Acting on instinct. And if Padme’s words are anything to go by, controlling my darker impulses._  
  
 _That’s definitely important._  
  
 _And another thing – I have to learn more about my family history. Why Terminus fell, for one thing. And I have to learn more about Obi-Wan Kenobi himself, not Terminus, as well as Sabe, my mother, and Padme. There is still so much that I have yet to know. There is still so much I want to know. So much stuff about my origins, about who I am, about who the Jedi are._  
  
 _I need to know that._  
  
 _And I need to know how to defeat the Empire. I might have defeated Ventress – as she’s been identified as. I just took out two of the Empire’s enforcers. I guess that’s not bad for a first attempt – but I have a lot to learn before I can defeat the Emperor._  
 _And I’m going to learn as much as I can. Because everything the Emperor did, to civilians and Rebels and even the Imps – I don’t know if others will believe me, but I felt it, just when they were about to die – it has to be stopped. It has to end. For all those people who died, and those, like Luke, who still live and are still no doubt threatened by the Empire._  
  
 _It will be a long road before I’m fully a Jedi like my father before me. But whatever it takes, I will meet these challenges nonetheless. And with others behind me, with my families, Rebel, Tatooinian, and biological, behind me, I feel more than prepared._  
 _And whatever challenges arise, I will meet them nonetheless._


End file.
